The Lie of Purgatory
by Through the Mirror Darkly
Summary: **Sequel to Life, Death and a Choice** Will you live or will you die? That is the question that Olivia Steel faces as her life is on a collision course with danger and reunion with Ezio Auditore, the man she loves. With more secrets than she can carry, will Olivia be able to change the tide in the never ending war? Or will she be the one to seal the world's fate?
1. Birthed From the Sea

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Nothing! No Ezio. No Altair. I own nothing. This is purely for amusement, nothing else! I just write to better myself as a writer, and learn and develop my style. And for the readers enjoyment, after all.

Summary: Will you live or will you die? That is the question that Olivia Steel faces as her life is on a collision course with danger and a reunion with the man, Ezio Auditore—the man she loved and left behind three years ago. With more secrets than she can carry, will Olivia be able to change the tide in the never ending battle of Assassins versus Templars? Or will she be the one to seal their fates?

Pairings: Olivia(OC)/Ezio, sort of established romance

Author's Note: This is a sequel to "Life, Death and a Choice". You don't necessarily need to read that to enjoy this story, but if you don't want to feel lost at times, I suggest going to read that before this one. (*Also note that Life, Death, and a Choice is currently be edited! Chapter 10 and up have yet to be edited and updated!) This story will definitely have a different tone than the last one, but will not feel too separate from it I hope. Anyways, I hope that you all enjoy it and come to love it.

Songs that Inspired this Chapter:

Olivia's Main Theme Song: "Rise" by State of Mine

"Memories" by Within Temptation

 **NOTE:** The opening of this story is a recap of the last scene of "Life, Death, and a Choice".

* * *

 **The Lie of Purgatory**

 **By ThroughtheMirrorDarkly**

* * *

CHAPTER ONE

"Birthed From the Sea"

 ** _9_ _th_ _February 2011_**

 ** _Monteriggioni, Italy_**

 ** _Auditore Villa_**

Desmond was wretched out of the animus, the sheer amount pain coursing through his chest was too intense and the next thing he knew was that he was on his knees, expelling his stomach's contents. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think, all he do was feel the pain radiate through his soul. It wasn't his pain, but that of his ancestor, Ezio. There had been only one other time that Desmond had to be pulled from the Animus so abruptly and that was the hanging of Ezio's father and brothers, even then he was able to put a distance between him and the agony. He had known what was coming, Shawn had given him a rundown of what to expect when the execution happened, and he had prepared himself for it.

He had no time to prepare for this. No way to not be gutted by the loss.

Desmond let out a raw sob, bile running down his quivering chin. His dark eyes were unfocused, and he shoved away Lucy's offer of a towel. Instead, he scooted away with his back pressed against the Animus and his knees drawn up to his chest. His eyes narrowed into slits, and he glared at Shawn. "Is she dead?" He asked, his voice come out of his mouth like shards of broken glass. His hands were clenched into knuckle white fists at his side, and his body shook with breaths. "Is she really gone?"

"Desmond," Shawn said, hesitantly.

"Don't look at me like that!" Desmond snapped. "You put me in there, you put me through the lives of my ancestors, and you expect me to what? To not care? To not feel? I feel everything, and I felt this! I want to know, is Olivia Steel really dead?"

"I second his outrage," Leo spoke up, his voice uncharacteristically soft. His jaw was set tight, and his eyes glared daggers at Shawn, Rebecca, and Lucy. "Olivia is my best friend, and I think I deserve to know what happened to her. Where is the fucking harm in letting us know what happened to her? Did she really die because of the Shroud or what? Because I know my friend, and she is a fucking survivor, she can't die like that. She doesn't deserve to die like that!"

"It would technically be 'didn't', as in past tense…" Lucy corrected, faintly. She flinched back from the twin glares that were pinned on her, and cleared her throat. "Shawn, you know the history better than the rest of us here. You've been monitoring all the changes to Ezio's timeline, right? Is Olivia really dead?"

"Well, I'm pleased to inform you two drama queens that Olivia Steel is indeed alive and did not die at the hands of the Shroud," Shawn commented, his tone lacking its normal bite. He hand his hands on his hips, and walked over to his work station. "From what correspondences were recovered of the famed Red Hood, she is said to cropped up in southern Italy a few years later out of the blue. There were letters exchanged with Machivelli and Lorenzo de Medici in a request for aid. If she sent Ezio any letters during this time, they were never found. She gave Medici some sound advice about his finances at one point because in the original timeline—"

"Shawn, no one cares about Lorenzo's bank statement in any timeline," Rebecca told him, with a scoff.

"Why? Why would the Shroud do that?" Desmond asked, a burst of anger rushed through his veins like wildfire. The unfairness of it all stung his heart, and he could taste the lingering sorrow and grief on Ezio's on his tongue.

"From what I can tell is that according to the Assassin lore is that the Shroud took Olivia somewhere. It's unclear of where or why, so we can only speculate on that account," Shawn commented, lightly. "We know from some of Machiavelli's writings that the Ones Who Came Before had a hand in it, though that shouldn't be surprising given the fact that Olivia is a bloody time traveller."

"The knowledge of her "death",' Rebecca continued, with air quotes, "was kept under lock and key. La Volpe and Machiavelli—probably against Ezio's wishes—used rumors to make it appear as if the Red Hood was leaving Italy all together." She pulled up the images of the letters between the Red Hood and others, a few depictions by famous artist of the famous rogue, but there is one image that was just Olivia Steel. It was a simple portrait of the woman behind the notorious legend that was done by Leonardo Da Vinci in 1501. "Borgia made a critical error in dividing his forces. The Kingdom of Naples, the place in which the rumors said Olivia fled to and the destination of the ship she was supposedly on, spurred Borgia to send men all through Italy in search of her. The peninsula was in turmoil which cost Borgia a lot of money and men; the First Italian War had broken out, and Borgia's merciless pursuit of the Red Hood was seen as an obsession, losing him much needed support. He wasn't able to become Pope until 1494, two years later than the original timeline. This allowed the Assassins to gain a firmer foothold in Italy more quickly, and branch out in neighboring countries."

Desmond felt the tension along his spine ease ever slightly. At least some good came from this mess, but it still didn't feel right at all. Ezio had been through so much, and to lose Olivia—even if she inevitably returned—still felt wrong. He swallowed the knot in his throat, and turned away from the monitors.

"Rebecca, can you bring up the picture of Olivia? The one that Da Vinci did," Leo asked, with a slight frown on his face.

"Sure thing," Rebecca said.

With a few clicks, the picture was brought up. "That background, that's not Da Vinci's work."

"How can you tell?" Desmond asked, squinting at the picture. He gave the image a dirty look, not too happy with the Pieces of Eden on his ancestor's behalf. Hadn't Ezio been enough for the woman he had fallen in love with to have those ancient pieces of crap to fake her death? The man just couldn't catch a break.

"It's a breadcrumb," Leo replied, a slow smile stretched across his face. "While the portrait of Olivia is definitely Da Vinci, the background is Olivia's style of painting."

"What?" Desmond blinked. "How is it a breadcrumb?"

"I think it is something deliberate," Leo said, slowly. He tapped his fingers along his jawline, and he walked forward with his brows furrowed. "Why else paint it like that? Maybe it's a clue? But a clue to freaking what?"

Lucy turned a critical gaze to their new companion—who had been more of a nuisance than anything helpful—and folded her arms over her chest. "Are you saying that this painting is hiding a secret message?" She asked, with thinly veiled disbelief.

The young man's demeanor completed changed before their eyes. The easy going smile slipped off of his face, and his green eyes flashed with annoyance and irritation. "I am a genius. I'm not saying that to be boastful or smug. I am a certifiable genius with an IQ that is sky fucking high. I graduated from MIT at the age of seventeen, and the only reason that I haven't been hired by some of the most influential scientific establishments in my world is because I happen to have Asperger's Syndrome, OCD with depression and anxiety," he stated, with his hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie. His jaw clenched and unclenched then he let out a slow breath through his nose. "Apparently there is only a certain level of insanity that the scientific community is willing to house, but I am not it."

Lucy stared at him, flabbergasted.

Desmond cocked his head to the side. It made sense that there would be something more to Leo, like there had been to Olivia. Why would whatever had brought them to this world have wasted the effort on someone who would be a burden? No, whatever was behind this was purposeful and did nothing without expecting a great result. "Why didn't you tell us earlier?" He asked, no judgment in his tone.

Leo gave him a look. "She pointed a gun at me," he jerked a thumb in Lucy's direction, "and then you tied me to a chair!"

"You appeared out of thin air!" Lucy defended, vehemently.

Rebecca smirked. "Hey, that rhymed."

"Now is not the time, Rebecca," Shawn said, with a sigh.

Rebecca snorted, a small pout on her lips. "Party poopers."

"And besides, I wasn't wholly convinced this wasn't a dream until I was still here after days on end!" Leo said, with a glare at Shawn and Lucy. It seemed their uptight attitudes grated on his nerves, not that Desmond could blame him. "And besides," he added, in a more mild tone, "it was kind of fun to torment you all with the whole fanfiction thing, and stuff."

"You got a kick out of that?" Lucy asked.

"I reiterate I was tied to a chair," Leo replied, calmly. "I had to get my kicks somewhere."

"Oh, Dear Lord," Shawn pinched the bridge of his nose. "This is getting us nowhere. What is painting that makes you believe it's a code?"

"Down to business, huh?" Leo rolled the tension out of his shoulders. "Olivia liked to draw, but painting was never her favorite medium. It reminded her too much of therapy that they put her through as a kid. It completely ruined the experience for her."

"That's a shame," Rebecca stated. "She is really talented. Her painting, _The Eagle's Path_ , is very welled liked by many art critics for the realism and life put into it, and of course, people still speculate to this day why Leonardo da Vinci kept it with him until he died. It was obvious it wasn't his work, and a lot people attribute it being a masterpiece done by his lover or something along those lines."

Leo smiled, broadly. "Olivia would get a laugh out of that. It would have made her happy to know that she caused such a stir," he said, his voice thick with emotions. It occurred to him right then that he was unlikely to ever see his friend ever again. That Olivia had lived her life, and she was gone. It was like being punched straight through the heart, and it hurt to even breathe. "But when Olivia _did_ paint, it was always with a purpose. She said she would never pick up a paint brush unless there was true intent behind it, and nothing less. There were only a few times she ever painted. One time she painted a picture that you could fill the agony and pain coming off of it with the dark blacks, greys and vibrate reds all clashing together. It was a depiction of her childhood. One other time, she painted a set of paintings that were a secret map that if someone knew how to read it, then they would learn of a cave in the woods out behind Olivia's old house. It was filled with crystals and geodes, Olivia told me. If you put a lantern in the center of the cave…it would light up all the crystal and it looked like you were standing in starlight.

"Now this painting is something else all-together," Leo pointed at the computer screen. "This is has to mean something, otherwise why would she paint a background in her own portrait. I just don't understand what she is trying to say."

Desmond managed to clamber to his feet, and stared at the screen. The woman portrayed in the picture, held the dignity and air of a queen. Her grey eyes were sharp and bore into the soul of the person who looked upon the portrait, and her fingertips traced an eagle necklace at her throat. An epiphany flooded through his mind with all the subtly of a battering ram. "Where is this painting at now?"

"A private collector in London, England," Rebecca replied. "Why?"

"I think Leo is right. I think Olivia left us a coded message, but only someone with eagle vision can see it," Desmond stated, his eyes riveted on the necklace.

"Are you sure?" Lucy asked, an eyebrow arched.

"I would stake my life on it," Desmond said, seriously. "I have a feeling we need to get that painting and fast."

"Are we serious right now?" Shawn asked, looking around at them appalled. "Are we honestly contemplating art theft?"

"Really? Of everything that is going on, that's what you are hung up on?" Rebecca asked, sarcastically.

"I'm just saying that perhaps we should explore other options before we put all our eggs in the basket labeled "Olivia Steel's remake of the Da Vinci" code," Shawn stated, shoving his glass back up his nose to their proper place.

"That's a mouthful of a label," Desmond snorted. "Though it is really accurate."

"What is really accurate?" A voice questioned.

The air seemed to be sucked right out of the room. Shawn had gone white as a sheet, his entire face lost any trace of color. Rebecca gnawed on her lower lip, looking like a kid caught in the candy jar. Lucy appeared to be muttering a prayer, and asking the world to swallow her whole. Desmond had a more profound reaction to the voice, feeling as if he had been punched in the gut and his blood turned to chunks of ice in his veins. He turned around to face the man who stood at the entrance of the sanctuary. So many emotions boiled up within him, and it was only Lucy's hand on his shoulder that kept him from launching himself across the room to land one good punch on the smug bastard's face.

It was his father, William Miles and head of the Brotherhood.

"Alright!" Leo shouted the question on everyone's mind and in the most tactless way possible. "Who invited the bastard?"

Leo was officially Desmond's new best friend and hero.

* * *

 ** _Venice, Italy_**

 ** _15_ _th_ _July 1482_**

The orange light from the sunset floated through the windows casting a pattern across the quiet room. Several more portraits done by the Maestro Leonardo sat around the room waiting to be shipped to Monteriggioni while the famed Assassino leaned over his desk. His palms laid flat against the wood as his golden eyes traced the remaining names on his list. When Ezio Auditore had started his mission to avenge his family, he had been a different man. Young, naïve, hot-headed—though his temper still claimed him on occasion; he had come so far from those days, stumbling through all walks of life. He had grown up in nobility, and then the betrayal happened. His father and brothers executed. He had to kill to survive, had to steal, and much more. He found that he did not miss being part of the gentry of Italy, preferring the truth of thieves, mercenaries and whores to the painted and backstabbers that polluted the government and laws.

But if there was one thing he missed out of everything, it would be her.

Olivia Steel, the Red Hood. His companion, his friend, his love.

The image of her face—the fear, the panic—still lanced through him like the shape end of a sword, and his heart clenched tight at the helplessness that still echoed through him. The Shroud of Eden had been hidden beneath Monteriggioni, and it had stayed there, silent and powerless for years. Until that fateful night that it claimed his love's life. It had taken control of her, had led her to her death and a void had been in his life ever since. He regretted not acting on his feelings for her before, regretted that they only shared one blissful night before she was ripped out of this world. He had spent hours, searching through every scroll, every book, trying to find out more about the Pieces of Eden as if some magically clue would appear and he could have her back.

No answers could be found.

" _Tell me," Ezio demanded. "Tell me that you don't love. Look me in the eye and tell me that you don't love me."_

 _No words fell from her lips because she couldn't tell him that. She couldn't tell him that because she did love him, and his hands cupped her face. A shaky sigh fell from her lips as Olivia looked at him with the greatest sadness in her eyes, and her fingers clung to his arms. It was as if she had never wanted to let him go._

He had never wanted to let her go, either. He had never contemplated life without her, had never imagined it to be a real possibility. She had been so strong and vibrant; slipping into his life like a puzzle piece he hadn't known was missing. They had been bound by the same grief and loss, and together walked the path of vengeance and justice. Where the Assassin went, the Red Hood had not been far behind. Living without her presence was like living without the sun, cold and despairing. Four years had passed since then, and he still could not find a way to heal his heart. Ezio rolled up the list, and shoved it into the pouch at his hip before he lowered himself into the chair. He raked a hand across the rough of his beard, and lifted his eyes to peer around his room idly. There was this emptiness in his life that no amount of distractions could fill.

Oh, he had tried to kill the pain. He fought guards, killed targets for Lorenzo de Medici, anything to keep his mind off of her. It wasn't until he learned that his uncle, Machiavelli, and La Volpe were using her reputation—the legend of the Red Hood—to divide Borgia's forces, and more. It made him angry that they would use her memory like that. It was the only that was left of her and they used it for their own means. He had started to drink then, trying to drown everything out and find solace at the bottom of the bottle. He had gotten drunk enough to have a few fleeting affair, but the sick feeling he was left with the morning after only drove the pain deeper into his heart. He knew all of it was a meaningless endeavor. Nothing could erase the memory that Olivia had cast upon his heart; with a single heated night of passion she had undone him. No to mention, the years of unshakable loyalty could not so easily be tossed aside. She had been his best friend and confidant, the voice of reason and ear that would always listen. The lines around his eyes crinkled when he frowned, heavily. His outlandish behavior lasted a good three months, before Zio Mario finally stepped in to put a stop to it.

Mario painfully reminded him of his duty that could not be ignored, and the older man sympathized with his nephew. His uncle told him that the matters of the heart were never easy, and that Ezio had to learn to live in spite of the pain. Mario seemed to believe that the Red Hood would return, believed that there was a greater plan or reason the Shroud took her away. Ezio didn't believe in gods or higher powers, but knew the objects like the Shroud and the Apple needed to be kept locked away before they hurt anyone else. If he could find a way, he would destroy them.

Ezio forced such thoughts away. They served little purpose right now, and there was still much to be done. As beautiful as Venice was, the corruption ran deeply and the Templars had flourished because of it. His wound the red string, like Olivia did when she was alive, around his index finger before he started to strap on his armor; the string was a little reminder, of all that he had lost and all that he left.

* * *

 ** _The Kingdom of Naples, Italy_**

 ** _18_ _th_ _July 1482_**

The lapping of waves brought many things upon the shore of Naples. Shells, dead fish, and things that had been lost at sea. Never before though had the dock master, Enrico Giambetti, seen a body be brought to shore as if birthed out of the waves and foam. His wife, Cecilia, would often come for walks and had coming running to the docks in a clear panic. He approached the white cloaked figure that laid, still and prone, on the dry sand where him and his wife had dragged the body away from the ocean's touch lest it reclaim the person. Enrico couldn't believe his eyes as the person's chest rose and fell unhindered, and he glanced down at the red fabric wrapped tightly around the person's waist. There was something about it that sent a prickle of warning down his spine, and he avoided touching it all cost. With a careful hand, he pulled back the person's hood and once again found himself stunned beyond belief.

It was not a man, but a woman!

Skin fair as the snow caps on the mountain tops, and up-turned nose like he imagined a fairy would have. Dark lashes set against high cheekbones, and pink lips were parted, dragging in deep, steady breaths. Her coppery brown hair was wet, shimmering with specs of sand in the sunlight.

" _Mio dio_ ," Cecilia gasped, underneath her breath, "do you think the poor soul shipwrecked?"

"I am unsure, my love," Enrico replied, flummoxed. He did not know what to make of a strange looking woman that wore man's clothes, a sinful and disgraceful thing, but perhaps desperation drove her to such. He startled slightly when the woman twitched, her eyelids fluttering and she struggled to find her way to the waking world.

Steel grey eyes peeled open, glazed with pain and confusion. "Wh—what?" Her voice was raspy and raw, like she had not used it in a long time. Her pupils dilated with fear when she saw him and his wife hovering over her, and she tried to pull herself away.

"Easy, child," his wife said, in a soothing tone. "You are safe now."

Enrico offered no consolation. He did not know this woman, and had a bad feeling in the pit of his gut. Weakened and baffled, she may be—this woman held herself taut and prepared for a fight. She fought to keep her eyes open, fought to sit up, but she would still lash out if she thought she were in danger. His wife may believe she was a poor lost soul, but he did not think she was some innocent. He'd recon that she was a pirate, or more likely a pirate's whore. Shipwrecks were not uncommon things, but survivors certainly were. "What is your name?" He asked, his brow furrowed into a deep frown.

Those solemn eyes turned up at him, and he felt like his soul was being judge. As if she were unraveling the depths of his character with that one glance up and down. Finally after what seemed like forever, the woman slumped against the sand, her strength dwindling. "O-Olivia," the strange woman croaked, her head bobbed up and down. "My name…is Olivia…"

"What happened?" Enrico asked. "Do you know how came to be here?"

The woman attempted to answer, when a voice echoed from the depths of her mind, _"Sleep, novice."_

And she collapsed against the sand, out cold.

* * *

 **END OF CHAPTER!**

 **It was nice to wrap up "Life, Death and a Choice" and start the sequel. I will warn everyone that while I will work on this story, I won't be posting any more chapters frequently until I am finished editing and updating "Life, Death and a Choice". I have the chapters 1-9, already updated, but am still working on the rest. Once I get the edits down, updated on here, and posted on AO3 then I will start posting updates. Just wanted everyone to know.**

 **Thank you all so much!**

 **RRs are appreciated. :D**


	2. Help I'm Alive (And It Hurts)

Disclaimer: I own nothing from Assassins Creed, not the games, movies, or books. Nothing! No Ezio. No Altair. I own nothing. This is purely for amusement, nothing else! I just write to better myself as a writer, and learn and develop my style. And for the readers enjoyment, after all.

Summary: Will you live or will you die? That is the question that Olivia Steel faces as her life is on a collision course with danger and a reunion with the man, Ezio Auditore—the man she loved and left behind three years ago. With more secrets than she can carry, will Olivia be able to change the tide in the never ending battle of Assassins versus Templars? Or will she be the one to seal their fates?

Pairings: Olivia(OC)/Ezio, sort of established romance

Author's Note: This is a sequel to "Life, Death and a Choice". You don't necessarily need to read that to enjoy this story, but if you don't want to feel lost at times, I suggest going to read that before this one. (*Also note that Life, Death, and a Choice is currently be edited! Chapter 10 and up have yet to be edited and updated!) This story will definitely have a different tone than the last one, but will not feel too separate from it I hope. Anyways, I hope that you all enjoy it and come to love it.

Assassins Creed Renaissance: This books helped me a lot with Ezio's point of view as well as the game, so I wanted to throw in a disclaimer here. It's not word for word what's in the book, but some parts may seem familiar.

I want to thank DannyPhantom619, Jadestone112, LaPersphone, LovelyThorn, Randomfox77, Shadow Operative, Sheity Williams, Sketchninja7, The Chaos of the Stars, c8499145, justme2134, Antyto-sama, Tyvot, unconditionally-infinite, dovakinrules, Shy911, Cho Tamazaki, ohnodddd, DarkDust27, Jade Celandine, girl falcona, Ashalenn, Yuuki Tsukiyomi, Dragon'sMaw, North Moonlight, Gen0cideRun for all the favs. :D

I want to thank Azminara, Delphine Pryde, Fredegar, Jadestone112, LaPersephone, Randomfox77, Sheity Williams, Shketchninja7, Special Agent Author, The Chaos of the Stars, ThisIsHope, c8499145, justme2134, Antyto-sama, Lilith67, ShioriOokami, Tyvot, unconditionally-infinite, Kementari689, relena soulheart, Shy911, Assassinwonderer, DannyPhantom619, DarkDust27, Yuuki Tsukiyomi, Dragon'sMaw, North Moonlight, Dance FLY, and Gen0cideRun for the follows! :D

I want to thank ohnodddd, Shy911, Gemma, Delphine Pryde and Danny Phantom619 for the reviews!

Guest Reviews:

Gemma: Yep! Olivia is back, and is ready to get back her life. I happy that you like the story, and I hope it doesn't disappoint. Thank you so much for the review!

Songs that Inspired this Chapter:

Olivia's Main Theme Song: "Rise" by State of Mine

"Help I'm Alive" by Metric

* * *

 **Chapter Two**

 **"Help I'm Alive (And it Hurts)"**

It was the dry, cracking pain in her throat that drew Olivia out of the inky blackness of unconsciousness. The more her mind inched away from slumber, the more aches and pain made themselves known. The throb in her temples, the raspy feeling in her lungs, and the knot in her stomach all of it pressed in on her incessantly, pulling her immediately to a state of panic. Her limbs felt like she had torn every ligament and shredded every muscle into a thousand pieces. Her eyelids were like heavy lead weights, and it took nearly all her strength to pry them open. Olivia shoved herself up off the stray bedding on shaky and trembling limbs, her eyes adjusting to the dimly lit homely hovel that surrounded her.

The dying fire barely chasing off the night chill, and she wrapped her arms around her tightly, shivering violently. Her memories were cloudy and jumbled, a spike of fear travelling down her spine when she heard footsteps coming closer. Her head jerked to the side, and she saw a silhouette of a woman in the threshold to the other room. "Wha—" Her voice cracked, her voice was too dry. She flinched at the scraping agony that burned up her esophagus, and her hand came up to touch her throat. When the woman walked towards her, Olivia felt her entire body coil tight. "Stay back!"

The words were like tongues of fire, causing her to choke on her breaths and cough violently.

The woman held up her hands. "Be at ease, child. I mean you no harm. I am Cecilia and you reside in my husband's home. We found you after you washed ashore," Cecilia said, in a low and calm tone. She walked over to the small kitchen table, and picked up the pitcher of water.

Olivia watched the woman covered in shadows, unblinking as she poured a cup of water and then brought it to her. The wooden cup was a bit cumbersome to hold in her shaking hand, and Olivia lifted it to sniff at the liquid cautiously. It was odorless as drinking water was, but not all poisons gave off a scent. However, her mind reasoned that if the woman wanted her dead that she had ample opportunity to do so before now. She weighed the pros and cons, before she lifted the cup to her lips and took a delicate sip. If it was death then it was the sweetest tasting death she had the privilege to encounter. The lukewarm water was practically paradise, sliding down her raw throat and she took a few more greedy sips before she lowered the cup. Holding the cup in her lap, Livvy raised her head to look at the woman and asked, "Where am I? And may I ask where my clothes are?"

"Your clothes were soaked. I changed you in some space clothes I had from when our daughter still lived with us," Cecilia said, gently. "Thankfully, they fit. You clothes are clean and are just over on the table."

Olivia glanced over, and her eyebrow shot up to her hairline. It was a white robe eerily like an Assassins, the red Shroud laid our deceptive and innocent looking and she felt a burning anger spark in her heart at the sight of it. She swallowed it down, frowning at the hidden blade that rested on top of her clothing.

"You are in Naples," Cecilia added, as an afterthought.

"Naples?" She tried to pour through her memories, trying to figure out how she went from Monteriggioni to Naples and acquired the robe and blade. But nothing came to mind, which made Olivia feel even more concerned than ever before. Her heart pounded against her ribcage, and the cup between her hands shook. "When?"

Cecilia looked bemused. "When?"

"The d-date," she elaborated, a horrible sensation unfurled in the pit of her stomach. "What is the date?"

"The 19th day of July in the year 1482."

 _1482._

Olivia felt like she had been stabbed in her heart, the cup slipped out of her grasp. The last bit of water spilt across her lap and a few droplets crashed the wooden floor. "Four years?" She croaked out, her voice was barely more than a whisper. Despair and heartbreak etched onto her face, and all the blood drained leaving her white as a ghost. Tears sprung into her eyes, Olivia didn't want to believe what she just heard because it was true then it upended her entire life, and the urge to accuse the woman of lying was on the tip of her tongue. But Cecilia didn't have a reason to lie, and about something that was so easily disproven. That thought crushed the last bit spark of hope in her chest, and she felt like she was on the verge of a breakdown.

Four years. Four fucking years!

Livvy could only imagine whatever believed happened to her. In the eyes of her friends and loved ones, she would have appeared dead. All her important connections in her life severed, and she could feel the fear clogging her throat. Things wouldn't—couldn't be the same. How could they when so much time had passed? Four years might seem inconsequential in the grand scheme of things, but in a person's life that was a lot of time to be missing. It was so quiet that she could have sworn she heard her heart crack, and fall apart in her chest. She had never believed in the fairness of the world, she had endured too much to have faith in that.

Still, she couldn't believe how the control she had on her own life had been taken away by a mysterious force again. She thought about all her friends, and wondered where they were now. Her thoughts flashed to Ezio, the way he had looked at her so tenderly that night, and she shook her head. She knew the second she thought about him—where he was, who he was with, what he had been doing—she would be led down the rabbit hole of a pain that she couldn't escape. Her shoulders shook from the violent breaths she was breathing in, and she had unconsciously curled inward on herself, with tears trickling down her cheeks.

Cecilia patted her, sympathetically on the shoulder. "You appear to have gone through quite an ordeal, haven't you dear?"

Cecilia had no idea how right she was.

* * *

 _9_ _th_ _February 2011_

 _Monteriggioni, Italy_

 _Auditore Villa_

Leo Hayes knew he shouldn't prejudge anyone, especially based on a brief demo of a game where he had not gotten any depth beyond the moments where William Miles forcibly made the other Assassins put Desmond back into the Animus to make him relive Connor Kenway's memories and only commentary from the creators at Ubisoft of just how bad the father/son relationship between William and Desmond was. It didn't help that Leo was reminded a bit of his bio-donor (the man didn't deserve the term 'dad) by William, but Leo out of all the AC characters, he identified with Desmond the most. So he might be a little weirdly protective, as if he were trying to shield the man from the kind of psychological agony he had went through trying to earn his father's approval.

And he was prone to putting his feet into his mouth, so the words were out before he could help it.

William Miles looked momentarily taken aback, and then his expression set eerily into stone. "So it seems that the rumors were right. You brought an outsider into the Monteriggioni Sanctuary without permission of any Master Assassin," he stated, the disapproval etched into every line on his face. His icy blue eyes were narrowed, and he stepped forward which caused everyone to tense upward. "Do you want to explain yourselves, or shall I have to send you all to be trialed by the Council?"

Lucy sucked in a harsh breath, sharing a quick glance with Rebecca and Shawn. It was clear that the Council were the ones in the charge of the Brotherhood and not people to be fucked with. Leo felt a tangible fear grow within him, and for the first time, he felt truly afraid for his life. Sure, Lucy pointing a gun at him had sucked, but he had known the group could be reasoned with. He didn't know William Miles or his characters, and he most certainly didn't know about this Council.

Desmond stepped forward. "There is a valid reason that Leo is here with us. I'm not sure you are going to believe what has been happening, we have been the only ones aware of the changes that have been happening," he started, his tone reasonable and calm. It was as if Lucy's hand on his back acted like an anchor for Desmond to keep his cool in front of his father when Leo knew he likely wanted to snap or blow up.

"What changes might those be?" William asked, skeptically.

"Olivia Steel is a time traveller, from a world not like ours. She had information about the future of the Assassins and used it to change the outcome of certain things," Shawn explained, pulling his glass of his face and pinching the bridge of his nose. "I have archived all the discrepancies in the timeline that have happened because of her good will meddling, and I can tell you that we are far better off for it."

"And if Olivia was sent to the past for a reason, then we believe that Leo was brought here for a reason, too," Rebecca stated, arms folded over her chest.

"You believe that this man is from another world?" William glanced over at Leo. "And you just trust his word?"

Leo bristled slightly.

"Well, when this guy magically appears out of thin air it seemed like a good time to start developing a bit of faith," Desmond said, with a scathing tone.

Seconds of silence passed where William held his son's gaze, as if trying to see into his soul. It was nearing a minute before William broke his gaze away from Desmond, and made his way to the research table. "There a piece that Machiavelli did dedicated to the Red Hood. Due to the events and occasions it dealt with, it has been kept away from the public and hidden away in the Assassin Archive in London, but Machiavelli wrote in a later passage of the work, he made a comment about how OIivia Steel was a traveller from a faraway land," William commented, with a great furrow upon his brow. He glanced away from the group to the various search on Shawn's desk, and ignoring the way Shawn got flustered with his stuff being messed with. "I had always assumed that she was a Sage, given the stories told about her. A time traveller, though? At first, it sounds preposterous, but when you think about it…it is not entirely impossible given the powers at work here."

Desmond looked astounded. "You believe us?"

William gave him a long look. "I am giving you the benefit of the doubt. Just because something is possible, doesn't mean it is the truth, but I'm not about to put some of our best our in the field in front of the Council unless absolutely necessary. Also I'd rather not have your mother bust my balls," he chuckled, a good-natured grin break the stoic and harsh nature he had only seconds ago.

Leo seemed stunned, but he doubted he held a candle to what Desmond was currently experiencing. The Assassin-in-Training seemed flabbergasted by the humor his father was showing as if it had just turned his entire world upside down.

"Your mother also is looking forward to having some choice words for you, Desmond," William added, after a moment. "Some words she has been saving up ever since you ran away from the Farm."

"And you don't?" Desmond raised a brow.

"I think the tongue thrashing your mother can provide will more handle things." William stepped forward, clapping his son on the shoulder and smiled broadly at him. "Regardless, I am glad to see you. When we heard that you had been captured by Abstergo, we were worried about you. It is why we ended Lucy's covert mission, in order to get you out before the Templars could do further harm. I am only sorry that we weren't able to get you out sooner, but you are here now, and that's all that matters."

Desmond stood there, rooted to the spot. Lucy was blinking rapidly, looking disgruntled about the new memories she was likely having to sort through. Shawn and Rebecca looked uncomfortable, as if they had been waiting for an explosion and were confused as to what to do now that it appeared no such fight was going to happen. Leo stood there, with a million questions and thoughts in his head. He voiced none of them, too afraid to lose the sudden burst of good will that William gave them.

Leo was starting to believe Olivia was a witch. How else could she work so much magic in the past that it affected the timeline so greatly? He wasn't sure if the world needed more of her magic or less of it before it got turned upside completely.

"Now, tell me about why you all need to become art thieves."

Lucy and Desmond shared a look, before the blond woman stepped forward. "We have this theory about a portrait—the one that Leonardo da Vinci painted of Olivia Steel—may actually have a hidden clue that could help lead us to a Piece of Eden, or something as equally important," she answered, her words chosen carefully.

William nodded. "Go on."

"The portrait is in the possession of a private collector known as Oleander Clarel who is in London. A bit of recluse, using proxies to purchase portraits and artifacts, but known also for his philanthropy. We have no idea what the man looks like. Apparently, he was diagnosed with DID and lived most of his life behind his castle walls. And by castle, I mean, a legit castle," Shawn stated, pulling up a picture of the beautiful gothic fortress. "It is implied that the castle has been passed down through the family, and all the records and papers seem to be in order. However, there was no real mention of the Clarel family in London until about 1843, and the records are vague at best when it comes to the family tree."

"You think it's a templar's stronghold?" Rebecca asked, worriedly.

"It wouldn't be the first time they took the Assassins' History and put it on display like it was a trophy they had won," Lucy commented, with a light huff.

"It's possible, but I don't know," Shawn narrowed his eyes at the information that streamed across the computer screen. "There is something about this that we are missing. Like a key piece of evidence that without, we will never be able to solve what's going on."

"It is an interesting lead," William admitted. "I'll notify the London Brotherhood. See if there is anything in their records about the Clarel family, and only until we hear back will we decide on what to do with this portrait business. Until then Desmond will start training, not just forced to sit inside the Animus for days on end."

"Wait! I just had an idea!" Rebecca jolted as if struck by lightning. "What if we use the Animus to prove that Leo is telling the truth about being from another world?"

"What?" Leo looked flabbergasted.

"Think about it," Rebecca reasoned, getting very excited. "Your world didn't have Templar or Assassins, meaning the events of history unfolded differently without them. Your ancestors might not have been prominent figures of history, but somewhere along your bloodline, there could be proof of the differences between our world's history and your own. Your DNA can't lie. It has no reason to."

"You want me?" Leo swallowed, thickly. "In the Animus?"

"It could validate your story. The Council is bound to get involved sooner than later, and hard evidence like your DNA memories could help your case," William nodded, seeing no flaw in Rebecca's logic.

Leo thought it over, in meticulous detail. It was a good theory, after all. What better way to ascertain the differences in his world's history versus this one, than to actually take a look back into history itself through his DNA? How many people would jump at the chance to see their ancestors' lives, good or bad? It had more pros going for it than cons—though the Bleeding Effect was a mighty big con—so Leo nodded his head after a time. "Alright. I'll do it," he agreed, a hint of nerves in his voice. "When Desmond's training, I guess I'll be inside of the Animus. Just…just promise me that I'm not going to slip into a coma and die, or something? That would really suck."

"Don't worry, Leo," Desmond grinned, understanding his worries. "With these guys—and gals—you'll be in good hands."

"Then it settled. Be ready at dawn for training, Desmond," William said, with a half smile. "I hate to be kept waiting."

"Whoa! What?" Desmond's eyes grew huge. "You are—you are—"

"The one who is going to be overseeing your training? Yes."

With that William Miles exited the room, leaving everyone inside of it feel like they had taken a trip down a rabbit hole from which they couldn't return. Desmond groaned, dragging his hands down his face and muttered underneath this breath, "When I think shit couldn't get any damn weirder."

* * *

 _Venice, Italy_

 _23_ _rd_ _July 1482_

Venice under the steady rule of Doge Giovanni Mocenigo was not an awful place to be.

On the scale of things, it was quite peaceful now that there was a peace agreement with the Turks, and the city prospered, with the trade routes by sea and land were secure. Business was booming even if the interests were high, but the investors were bullish and the savers content. The Church was wealthy, fed with daily tithes by the faithful which in turn helped lend to the many number of artists who given patronage by spiritual leaders. Doge Dandolo had displayed the treasures looted from Constantinople after the Fourth Crusade unashamedly; the four bronze horses ranged along the upper façade of the St. Mark's Basilica being the most obvious.

The markets were filled with people, admiring goods from all over and willing to pay more than a few coins for such luxuries. Venice held a charm and beauty, not unlike Ezio's home of Firenze, but there were shadows that lurked beneath the fine fixtures and mask of normalcy. The Templar influence was heavily rooted here, more deeply embedded than any other place in Italy he had ever been. From the canal bank, not far from the Marchese de Ferrara, Ezio heard raised voices that pulled him out of his thoughts. He turned his head, subtly and watched from underneath the shadow of his hood, two guards harassing a businessman.

"You were told to stay at home, sir," said one of the officers.

The businessman looked confused. "But my rent is paid. I have every right to sell my wares here."

"Sorry, sir, but it's in contravention of Messer Emilio's new rules. I'm afraid you are in a serious situation, sir."

Emilio Barbarigo. A blight upon the beautiful Venice, and a coward that hid behind his policies and guards. He was the next name that Ezio intended to mark off his list, and he casually made his way up the stairs.

"I'll appeal to the Council of Ten!"

"No time for that, sir," the second uniform said, kicking down the awning of the businessman's stall. It was obvious the guards intended to loot the best wares, and destroy the rest.

Slipping a bomb out of his belt, Ezio tossed it. As soon as it slammed into the cobblestone ground, the white smoke was released with a hiss and allowed Ezio to slit the guards' throat and disappear before the smoke cleared. He heard the businessman shriek, and made his way down an alleyway. He made for the Guild, which was no easy task in this maze like city with all the twisting canals, low arches, and dead ends. Finally, he made his way to the home of Antonio—the _amministratore_ of the Guild of Professional Thieves of Venice—and every time he entered, he was always struck with a thought. A thought on how Olivia would have loved this place and the rebelling hearts of its people, and perhaps that is the thing that charmed him most of Venice. It's spirit and nature reminded him a bit of the woman he loved, and he could imagine her with a piece of charcoal in her hand, drawing the grand buildings and statues on a piece of paper. It made his heart ache that he never got to bring her here.

Sometimes, in quiet moments, he could swear he sees Olivia out of the corner of his eye. A fleeting shadow that comes and goes with a ghost-like silence, but he says nothing of the visions. He keeps the hint of madness only to himself, cherishing the brief glimpse that for some reason given as much hope as they do despair. He walked into the _amministratore's_ office which was a book-lined room, expensive books in good binding, fine Ottoman carpets, walnut and boxwood furniture, and silver-gilt and candelabras. It was a comfortable place that Antonio had made for himself that was for sure. Ezio walked to the large table in the center of the room, and his fingers traced across the model for the Palazzo Seta.

"Ah, Ezio, there you are," Antonio grinned, when he entered the room. "Is there anything I can offer you? _Biscotti? Un caffe?"_

"A what?" Ezio looked over at him confused.

"A coffee." Antonio straightened himself. "It's an interesting little concoction, brought to me by a Turkish merchant. I have found the liquid quite addicting. Here, try some." He passed Ezio a tiny white porcelain cup filled with a hot black liquid from which a pungent aroma came.

Ezio tasted the drink, flinching in surprise at how it burned his lips. It was not bad by any means, and he said so, but added, thoughtlessly, "It could be better with a bit of cream and sugar, I should think."

Antonio scoffed, lightly. "The most assured way to ruin it," he replied, with no true heat in his voice. The two finished their drinks before they spoke on the mission at hand. "These were the positions we had planned if Rosa had succeeded in getting in and opening on of the postern-gates," he gestured to the small handcrafted mannequins that lined the model on the table. "When she was hurt, as you well know, we were forced to retreat. As we regroup, that will give Emilio time to strengthen his defenses. But our last venture was costly, and I am done to my last _soldo._ We need help to fill our coffers again. I think you may be able to provide that help. If you do, it will demonstrate to me that you are an all worth helping. Might you undertake such a mission, Mr. Cream-and-Sugar?" Antonio smirked.

Ezio smiled. "Try me," he said.

* * *

 _Naples, Italy_

 _31_ _st_ _July 1482_

It was a quiet little niche that Olivia Steel had slipped into this last week and a half.

And one wholly unsuited for her, even if the silence was a solace to her aching heart. The simpler things in life had been what kept her from drowning underneath the weight of grief that settled upon her soul, but her thoughts always turned to the past, and chased the simpler things away. The breeze off the ocean had chased away the lingering mist and rain, clearly out the sky and the sun was shiny down onto the beach. Unlike in her time period, there were not a great deal of people were out on the beach besides fishermen and the like.

Four years of her life had been stolen from her, and it wasn't just time that had been taken away. Stepping back into her old life and relationships wouldn't be as easy as slipping on an old shoe, Olivia knew she would have to pick up the pieces and build back what she could, and start anew in other places. Her fingertips were smudged with traces of ink, where she had penned more letters. She had sent two to Monteriggioni for Ezio and Mario, but if she were right about the timeline then Ezio would be in Venice. His letter would not reach him, her gut twisted painfully at the thought. She had sent others to Luca, Ciana, La Volpe, and Machiavelli. She did not know where to send one to Leonardo or Gaspare. She hoped that her carefully penned letters would bring her much needed aid, and that her friends—well, she wasn't sure La Volpe could be consider a "friend"—believed that it was her. She had tried to subtly hint at knowledge or things that only she would know. She had been gone for four years and likely thought dead, so she had to do this in order to gain their attention.

That did not mean Olivia intended to sit idle. If her allies could not be swayed with letters, she had another plan already in place. Through the kindness of Enrico and Cecilia, she had spent her time laboring away at the local tavern under the guise of "Mona"—a little nod to Leonardo. She was gathering enough coin for passage to Venice, and from there she would work to find her old friends and allies. There was a great amount of fear that slithered through her. How much had changed since she had been gone? Were Ciana and Gaspare still together? Was Claudia still managing the books for her uncle? Had Maria Auditore come out of her comatose state and spoken? Did Ezio still love her, or had he moved on? Tears filled her eyes when a crushing wave of sadness rolled over her like a dark cloud. So many things were uncertain, but she couldn't live not knowing the answers. No matter how painful the reality she would face could be, she had to face it and now in order to know where to go from there.

Her grey eyes stared with loathing at the fabric wrapped tight around her waist. As much as she wished she could be rid of the thing, she knew that the Pieces of Eden were quite powerful and in the wrong hands they could do much harm. She would have to bear the burden until she could return it to the Brotherhood and have nothing to do with it every again. It had been cause of all her current anguish. It had drawn her away from Ezio's side all those years ago. Like a puppet on strings she was helplessly and forced to obey. She had been lured to the depths of the Auditore Crypts where the Shroud had been hidden, and Ezio had almost reached her. He almost stopped her, but her fingers clutched the fabric. A bright light had blinded her, and the next thing she recalled was awakening here in Naples, Italy nearly four years later.

What was furthermore perplexing was the fact that her clothes were that of an Assassin, but not just any old assassin. The robes were eerily similar, if not identical to Altair's from the first game.

Olivia was from the future. An alternative universe's future where this had all been just a game, and a story that she had romanticized and fallen in love with. And then, it had all became too real. Struck by a car, she had died a quick, but painful death. The next thing she knew, she was awoke to a forest and soon found that she had gone from a sleepy little town in 2013 to 1474 Tuscan Italy. As if that hadn't been hard enough to comprehend, she soon found herself being followed by none other than Federico Auditore. A scrape with the guards had resulted in her crossing paths with Giovanni Auditore—she hadn't realized that being all poisoned and unconscious at the time—and the man was curious as to why she glowed green. It felt like being caught in a dream that hadn't quite turned into a full fledge nightmare, but certainly had the capability of doing so.

After struggling with her foreknowledge, Olivia inserted herself into the plot of the story. It hadn't been easy. She hadn't meant to create the Red Hood, at first. She had tried to save a person's life and he died anyways. She was hauled off to a "prison" that wasn't technically supposed to exist. Found a friend in her cellmate and a guard, and blew the place up. Literally. Thus the legend began, and all that jazz. So much had changed since then, and whatever naïve notions she still clung to had been swept away in the years that followed.

She had failed in changing some things, and succeeded in others. One of her greatest failures was the deaths of Federico, Petuccio, and Giovanni. She had been prepared to save them, but the goddess Juno did not take well to an "exiled" meddling with fate's affairs. Olivia managed to get the goddess to back off—by some power, she knew not—but she had been on the brink of collapse afterwards. She had tried to warn Giovanni, but her warnings hadn't helped. Uberto had made Lorenzo appear the traitor, and Giovanni trusted the wrong man. Olivia rushed to the execution, pushed her battered body to the edge of exhaustion and agony, but she had been too late. One last look upon Federico, who had become her friend, and the platform had been swept out from underneath them. The crowds roar had silenced her scream of despair, and in the wake of that devastation is where she met Ezio.

Battling against the guards, the two fled the scene.

Their friendship had born out of ashes of death on a bloody and dark day.

She hadn't intended to stick Ezio's side like she was his shadow. She had intended to help him from afar like all the others did, to keep herself from getting too close, but then he asked her to help get his mother and sister to safety—to help him, and one look into his golden eyes filled with despair and grief, and she just couldn't tell him no. Soon after that, anyone that saw the Assassin knew that the Red Hood was not far behind, and vice versa.

Years passed as they learned and fought together. Templars taken down, codex pages found, and so much more. The inexplicable bond they shared was forged in battle, but tempered by patience and time. It was the strongest kind of bond there was and only strengthened by love. Oh, she fought it. She knew the future. She knew Ezio ended up with someone else—someone who could bear him children, and make him happy whereas she could not. So she had resigned herself to the fact her love would go unrequited.

Except it hadn't gone as unrequited as she had thought.

In all came to a head after Giaordano Borgia's demise at her hand. Rodrigo didn't care for his brother, his murderous ways was a stain that the ambitious Templar could not afford, but that didn't mean he took well the news of his death. It had been too personal, and too close of a hit for the prideful bastard to ignore. A massive manhunt had been set upon Italy for the head of the Red Hood, and anyone harboring the thief or suspected of harboring the thief was punished harshly.

No one knew beyond the Brotherhood and a select few that the Red Hood was a woman. It had made slipping out of Firenze and to Monteriggioni easy, but the worry was not gone. So many things happened up to the point that Olivia thought the only way for her to protect those that she loved was to leave them, and have Borgia chasing after her, so his eyes would be nowhere near Ezio or the others. On the night that she came to this conclusion, Ezio did something utterly unexpected.

He disclosed his feelings for her. He did not say the specific word "love", but Olivia was no fool. She could read between his passionate words that had tested all her self-control, and had her heart all twisted in two different directions. They had fought, she walked away, and then she came back. To say good-bye, to tell him not to follow her, but she was a weak, weak woman.

She surrendered herself to him, to one night of passion. They had made love, exploring and savoring each other. Knowing what she knew about the future it had been wholly selfish to give into such desires because she knew that Ezio's bloodline needed to continue for Desmond to be born, and she was not a part of that no matter how much she wished it. Maybe if Ezio had moved on during the last four years, then it would be easier to close the door on the part of herself that loved him. It would be painful and hurt like hell, but the future was at stake. Agony curled into a ball and wedged into the back of her throat at the thought of Ezio with another woman, and she wrapped her arms around her midsection, staring out at the ocean that lay before her.

The hidden blade set heavily upon her wrist, costumed made to fit her slender arm. If she had gained this hidden blade during her four missing years, had she somehow had contact with other assassins? Who and where? Did the Italian Brotherhood know? If not, why? So many questions and so little answers. It was enough to drive her crazy. She let out a deep sigh, and made her way up the beach back towards the town.

"Mona! Mona!" A little girl by the name of Juliette rushed down the hill towards her. Juliette was Enrico and Cecilia's grandchild whom had been sent to stay with them during the summer to escape the heart of the conflict that had broken out between Venice and Ferrara. She had dark curls and a cherub face, the brightest pair of blue eyes the likes she had never seen. The child was curious and bubbly, bright as the sun. She followed Olivia around, asking her a million questions and Olivia couldn't get annoyed with her if she tried.

"What is the matter, Julie?" Olivia asked, momentarily worried. "Has something happened?"

Juliette took a moment to suck in a dramatic breath of air. "No, I just wanted to see you."

 _Oh, to be young again_ , Olivia grinned broadly. Children had such a simplistic view on life, it was refreshing when one had to deal with subterfuge and half-truths day in and day out. "Then I am honored and humbled that you wished to check up on me," Olivia told the child, with a light laugh. There was something about the child, the way she was inquisitive that reminded her painfully of Petuccio.

"Will you help me collect some seashells?" Juliette asked, tugging on Olivia's sleeve ever so slightly.

Livvy nodded. "I have a little spare time."

The two gathered at the edge of the water, where the waves lapped at their bare feet—their saddles discarded further up from the shore not to get swept away—and her fingers dug into the wet sand, the coarse granules slipping out between her fingers. The hems of her robes were soaked, and she pulled another shell free from where it was hidden. A tiny bivalvia shell that was had a beautiful dark reddish and white striped back that ran down the back of it, and she placed it in the pile of shells that they had already gathered.

"Hey, Mona," Juliette said, plopping in the wet sand beside the older woman. "Where did you come from? You look funny."

Livvy bit back a chuckle. "From very far away, across the waters."

"Oh." Juliette accepted the answer, though it wasn't a good one. "What is that on your arm?"

Olivia looked down the hidden blade, and then at the child. "So full of questions today, you are as curious as a cat," she stated, hoping that her statement would change the subject.

"Cats are funny, but the one near our house is mean. He clawed me. See," Juilette said, sticking out her leg to show Olivia the claw marks that ran down her calf. "Papa shooed him away with a broom after that."

"Some stray cats have never really been around humans, so they get scared and lash out," Livvy commented, lightly. "That cat probably thought you were so kind of giant there to steal its food."

"I'm not a giant! I'm tiny!" Juliette complained, with a huff.

"So you are," Livvy laughed. "My mistake, little one."

Juliette sat there with a mild pout on her face for all of a moment, before her curiosity once again got the best of her. She sat up on her knees, and pointed at the hidden blade gauntlet on Olivia's care. "Can touch it?" She asked, with wide eyes.

"Why?" Olivia blinked.

"It looks interesting," the child shrugged.

Olivia stared at the child for a long silent moment, before she nodded her head. She didn't see any harm in allowing Juliette to look at the hidden blade, the mechanism was after all inside where her wrist was and the little girl couldn't activate the weapon. "Careful," Olivia warned, gently. The little girl nodded her head, her fingers reaching out to touch the gauntlet and her thumb traced the symbol of the brotherhood. She looked bemused and a bit curious, which compelled Olivia to ask, "Is something the matter?"

Juliette looked up at her, and gave an answer that felt like a knife to her gut.

"It's just that…I've seen that symbol before."

* * *

 **END OF CHAPTER!**

 **Juliette is so me as a child, not even playing.**

 **Next Chapter:** Where did Juliette see the Assassins Symbol before? Olivia may gain allies that will help her return to her home and loved ones, but there are enemies that all too near.

 **Reference and Languages:**

 _Administratore_ (Italian) Administrator

 _Biscotti,_ known also as cantuccini, are Italian almond biscuits that originated in the city of Prato. They are a twice-baked, oblong-shaped, dry, crunchy and may be dipped in a drink.

 _Un Caffe_ (Italian) a coffee.

1.) Please note that I am NOT done with editing "Life, Death and a Choice". Chapter Twelve and up still need to be edited and gone through, so certain details will change. Overall the story and plot will be mostly the same, but I am doing my best to smooth out the timeline and other discrepancies as best as I can while adding depth and more scenes to the previous story. You won't have to reread it to follow "the Lie of Purgatory" but if something conflict, like little details then it is only that I haven't edited that part of LDaaC yet to fit the current canon of this fanfiction. Also, reminder, as long as I am editing the LDaaC story, updates on this won't be frequent. I will try to write ahead, and occasionally post new chapters when I can, but my focus is on editing that and finishing up more stories to lighten my load so to say. Thank you all for being incredible patience with me.

2.) We are also seeing Olivia Steel on her way to breakdown. It will honestly get a whole lot worse for her before it gets better, and she is going to go into some very dark, dark places before the light at the end of the tunnel. I will flag chapters with appropriate warnings.

RRs are appreciated.


	3. One Step Closer

Disclaimer: I own nothing from Assassins Creed, not the games, movies, or books. Nothing! No Ezio. No Altair. I own nothing. This is purely for amusement, nothing else! I just write to better myself as a writer, and learn and develop my style. And for the readers enjoyment, after all.

Summary: Will you live or will you die? That is the question that Olivia Steel faces as her life is on a collision course with danger and a reunion with the man, Ezio Auditore—the man she loved and left behind three years ago. With more secrets than she can carry, will Olivia be able to change the tide in the never ending battle of Assassins versus Templars? Or will she be the one to seal their fates?

Pairings: Olivia(OC)/Ezio, sort of established romance

Author's Note: This is a sequel to "Life, Death and a Choice". You don't necessarily need to read that to enjoy this story, but if you don't want to feel lost at times, I suggest going to read that before this one. (*Also note that Life, Death, and a Choice is currently be edited! Chapter 12 and up have yet to be edited and updated!) This story will definitely have a different tone than the last one, but will not feel too separate from it I hope. Anyways, I hope that you all enjoy it and come to love it.

Assassins Creed Renaissance: This books helped me a lot with Ezio's point of view as well as the game, so I wanted to throw in a disclaimer here. It's not word for word what's in the book, but some parts may seem familiar.

I want to thank DannyPhantom619, Jadestone112, LaPersphone, LovelyThorn, Randomfox77, Shadow Operative, Sheity Williams, Sketchninja7, The Chaos of the Stars, c8499145, justme2134, Antyto-sama, Tyvot, unconditionally-infinite, dovakinrules, Shy911, Cho Tamazaki, ohnodddd, DarkDust27, Jade Celandine, girl falcona, Ashalenn, Yuuki Tsukiyomi, Dragon'sMaw, North Moonlight, Gen0cideRun, RachluvsMerlin, mute-by-choice, Pr1me Gurl, TwilightMelodic, swishyla, Bellamy49, acliecasket, Wickara, WinterChild7 for all the favs. :D

I want to thank Azminara, Delphine Pryde, Fredegar, Jadestone112, LaPersephone, Randomfox77, Sheity Williams, Shketchninja7, Special Agent Author, The Chaos of the Stars, ThisIsHope, c8499145, justme2134, Antyto-sama, Lilith67, ShioriOokami, Tyvot, unconditionally-infinite, Kementari689, relena soulheart, Shy911, Assassinwonderer, DannyPhantom619, DarkDust27, Yuuki Tsukiyomi, Dragon'sMaw, North Moonlight, Dance FLY, Gen0cideRun, DayDreaminGirl, Adamantia13, RachluvsMerlin, mute-by-choice, Kira-Katashi, Pr1me Gurl, ArtemisFullmoon, TwilightMelodic, ToaKage, masterdude94, swishyla, Bellamy49, alicecasket, salinagriego, Wickara, WinterChild7 for the follows! :D

I want to thank Shy 911, DannyPhantom619, Delphine Pryde, swishyla, Just a reader and Guest for the reviews!

Guest Reviews:

Just a reader: Thank you so much reading it! I am glad that everyone has enjoyed it so much. Yeah, things for Olivia are going to get dark before they get better. Olivia and Ezio will get there time, there's going to angst, longing and of course fluff to balance it out. I won't abandon it, promise! Even if my updates aren't every other week, I will always come back to this story and series. :D

Guest: I'm glad that you enjoyed both stories so much that you decided to review, and no review is insignificant. Your review actually made me realize I need to get another chapter of this out for everyone so it was a wonderful reminder. Thank you for reading my stories, I'm glad that you've enjoyed it all.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I am still editing Life, Death and a Choice. I have chapters 12 and up to edit and update, so any inconsistency will hammered up by the time the whole of LDaaC is edited and will flow with The Lie of Purgatory!

Songs that Inspired this Chapter:

Olivia's Main Theme Song: "Rise" by State of Mine

"Blood on My Name" by the Brothers Bright

"Lovers Eyes" by Mumford and Sons

* * *

 **Chapter Three**

 **"One Step Closer"**

 _Naples, Italy_

 _31_ _st_ _July 1482_

"It's just that…I've seen that symbol before."

Olivia felt her heart thump wildly in her chest, feeling like the whole world stilled for a few heartbeats. "Where have you seen this symbol before?" And then she cursed her brisk tone because it made Juliette startle, the child looking up at her half-afraid she was in trouble. "Juilette, where have you seen this symbol before? I promise you aren't in any trouble," she whispered, knelt down to the young girl's eye level to make the child feel more comfortable. Her tone was far more calm and gentle than it had been previously. Her emotions had overcame her—eager and hopeful—that Juilette had truly seen this symbol before. If she had, then that meant Assassins could be here in Naples and Olivia could use any allies in her effort to return to her home, Monteriggioni. "I just need to know where you've seen this before. It is really important."

Juilette looked hesitant, shifting nervously on the balls of her feet before she gestured with her tiny hand for Olivia to lean forward. The child said in a tone so quiet that it was almost lost beneath the nearby crashing waves, "Ferrante, the King of Naples," she answered, nervously. "He has one of these, too."

Olivia's eyes went wide. "Ferrante? You mean Ferdinard I?" She questioned, her brows furrowed at the information. Before she had been sent back in time all those years ago, Livvy had only a passing knowledge of Italy and its history for all her love of the place. When she became the Red Hood, Olivia dedicated herself to studying the political climate with far more scrutiny seeing how words out of a history book had become her reality and could affect her immediate future, (and the future of the Assassins in Desmond's time.) "He is an ally of Lorenzo de Medici," she recalled, thoughtfully. While Lorenzo himself was only an ally to the Brotherhood and no an assassin, it wasn't impossible for more of his allies to be assassins like La Volpe and Machiavelli and the others. It actually made a great deal of sense now that she thought it over, and the bit of hope she held tight in her heart started to burn brightly. "Is this King of Naples here?"

Juliette nodded. "Arrived weeks ago. Mama says he is having peace talks and ne-negotiations with Pope Sixtus IV and Cesare Borgia to prevent a war," she spoke, stubbornly over a few big words with a little pout of her cherub face. The carless way she spoke about things like peace talks and war was so naïve and sheltered that it was clear that the child had no true knowledge of just what those things were. "Mama says it won't end well."

"Cesare Borgia?" Olivia sucked in a deep breath, a shaft of fear stabbing her viciously in her gut.

Juilette nodded.

Olivia felt her mouth tremble, knowing the horrors that Cesare was capable. Things just got a great deal more complicated when she didn't need them to be, and she managed to play like nothing was bothering her for the child's sake. As they walked back up the beach, she made the decision that she would leave Naples with haste.

* * *

 _Venice, Italy_

 _1_ _st_ _August, 1482_

Ezio had fined tuned the skills he had learned from Paola all those years ago, and put them into practice on the Venice streets not only to garner the loyalty from the local Thieves Guild, but to rob the rich burghers of Venice that allied with the treacherous Emilio. He had brought in nearly two thousands _ducati_ that Antonio needed to relaunch his operations and had been formerly given the title of Honorary Member of the Guild by Rosa. However, the coin maybe covered for now, the manpower was severely lacking. A great deal of Antonio's men were still captured and imprison awaiting their fates, which decreed by Emilio Barbarigo that they were to be made an example out of come this Sunday.

He had them placed on public display in cramped iron cages around the district he controlled. If he'd kept them in the dungeons of his palazzo, then it would have been nigh impossible to get them out. His arrogance to show them off, deprived of food and water, beaten when they dared to fall asleep put the circumstances for a rescue firmly in Ezio's favor. The Assassin knew he must work fast to see the men freed, for it only took days for a person to die from starvation and dehydration and the thieves had already been imprisoned for two days as it was. He had tasked Ugo to observe the secret comings and goings of the Watch. From one cage to the next like a row of duckling, the guards would pass through the area without falter. A crowd jeered and tossed rotten food at the caged men, and Ezio would not doubt that Barbarigo spies lingered amongst the civilians.

When night fell upon the city, the observers' numbers dwindled down so when the guards headed towards the second cage is when Ezio and the group struck. With deft hands, the assassin used his lock picks to spring the locks and the door swung open, the poor souls lifted by the cheer that arose from the bystanders who cared little for what was going on so long as they were entertained. They were some of the civilians that Ezio liked the least, but as long as they did not get in his way, he did not care about them. His golden gaze swept across the streets, and his heart hammered in his throat knowing they only had a limited window of time before the guards came back around.

It wouldn't be impossible to fend off their numbers, but Ezio was looking to avoid a fight. He'd rather slip in and out, soundless as a ghost to leave a greater impression upon them than a fist ever could. The men and women liberated were nearly thirty in total by the time Ezio unlocked the third cage, and all of them were worse for wear. He was grateful that they had not been individuality manacled; for that would have made the situation more complicated and conflicted with the guards would have been unavoidable.

The first priority was leading the group to a nearby well to sate their thirst. A person could go more days without food as opposed to water, and by the time they had reached the Thieves Guild, dawn split across the horizon and the rooster's crow could be heard for miles. Wiping the sweat from his brow, Ezio surveyed the men and women reunited who went teary eyed with gratitude with the food put in their hands and relaxed in the safety of familiar walls.

"This…what you've done," Ugo said, turning to the assassin. There was great respect shining in his dark eyes. "It has gone beyond charity. The Guild owes you an undying debt of gratitude for rescuing our brothers and sisters from a slow and gruesome death."

"There is no debt that needs to be repaid. The Guilds help with the Templars is more than enough to settle any debt," Ezio assured him, with a half-smile.

"Ah! The hero of the hour!" Antonio spotted him, making his way through the throng. "I cannot begin to tell you how much I—and the Guild—appreciate what you have done for us. Whatever aid we can offer you is yours. You have proven your loyal twice over to us."

"How is Rosa?" Ezio asked, lightly.

"Better, but she was hurt worse than we thought, and she tries to run before she can walk!" Antonio laughed, jovially.

"Sounds like her," Ugo huffed, shaking his head.

"It's typical," Antonio paused. "She wants to see you."

"Oh? What about?" Ezio arched a charcoal brow.

"You'll just have to ask her about that, now won't you?"

Some hours later, Ezio found the every impatient recovering Rosa with her damaged leg swathed in bandages and dependent on a can to get around. " _Salute,_ Rosa," he said, waving his hand in greeting to the aggravated woman. "How are things? I see your leg is healing."

Rosa snorted, nose wrinkled. "It's taking too damn long, but I am getting there. And you? How are you finding our little town? I've heard all manner of things that you've been up to," the female thief inquired, taking a seat on a nearby bench to rest her leg. Ezio took the spot beside her, and the two of them looked out across the canal.

"It is a great city…full of exciting adventures," Ezio shrugged, with a small smile. "But how do you cope with the smell of the canals?"

"We're used to it. We wouldn't like the dust and filth of Florence." She paused. "So I imagine that you wonder why I called you here."

"The thought did cross my mind, once or twice."

"If you want to scale the Palazzo Seta, you are going to need to learn to climb as I do."

"As useful as that would be, you aren't—"

"I know what condition I am in, thank you very much." Rosa gave him a gimlet eyed stare, and muttered unflattering things about his lineage underneath her breath. She raised her voice, and called across the yard to one of the thieves practicing on targets, _"Franco!"_

A lissome, dark haired youth immediately came when beckoned. He was a fresh face young man who to Ezio's private embarrassment seemed to take great pleasure in looking assassin over brazenly. "What is that you require of me now, Rosa?" He asked, intrigued.

"Nothing too strenuous, just to show Ezio some of our tricks. He has to be able to climb the Palazzo Seta," Rosa informed him, with a knowing smirk.

"Is that all he wants to learn?" Franco asked.

Ezio felt his cheeks turn warm. "Yes, it is. Thank you."

Franco looked slightly crestfallen, for all of a second before he bounced back from the subtle rejection. "Very well. Whenever you want to get started, I shall be over by the scaffolding."

"You are his type," she told him, when Franco cleared off the

"That is all good and well, but he is not my type," Ezio commented, his smile a little strained. It wasn't because the male had flirted with him. It had not been the first time he had been flirted by or with a man, but he had no desire for sexual liaisons with anyone regardless of their gender. The only person in the world that he could see himself in that way was gone, and no fresh face could replace her in his eyes.

The woman laughed. "Franco likes to flirt, though he hardly means anything by it. I daresay that you would have a hard time prying him from his beloved," Rosa stated, with a good-natured grin.

Ezio chuckled. "Perhaps in another life."

Ezio spent the rest of the morning—three hours—chasing after Franco, under Rosa's vocal direction. By the end, he could clamber up to heights with almost all the speed of his current mentor, and learned how to jump upwards from one handhold to the next, though he doubted he would ever reach such skill level to earn Rosa's full approval. She was a harsh task master, sparing him any praise until he managed to climb up a tall tower and back down before she counted to three hundred. He had failed twice, but on the third try when he was so physically exhausted that he was ready to smash his face against a brick wall, Rosa smiled at him. "Two hundred and sixty-seven. Well done," she said, with a lop-sided smile. "You'll just about do."

Ezio had never been so relieved to be released from training and find a soft bed to fall into oblivion. His dreams were restless though, filled with images of Olivia who was just out of his reach and calling out to him. Anytime he would get close, she would disappear and he would jolt awake his heart thundering in his chest. With a harsh curse, Ezio rested his head against his pillow dampen with sweat and pressed his hands against his face.

He shoved himself off of the bed, throwing off the blanket and dragging his hands down his face with a ragged sigh. He padded across the old, creaking wooden floor to the cracked vanity—the mirror splintered outward in a broken circle from where his fist had smashed against it on one of his worst days—and he bent his head forward, his gaze down on his clenched fists braced on the wood instead of the reflection of the man in the mirror. His broad shoulder rose with aggravated breaths, and emotions swirled like jagged blades inside of him, cutting deep.

Ezio stood there, motionless save for the rise and fall of his chest and then finally he moved to pull on his clothing and armor. He would find no peace in sleep tonight, and so he would outrun his demons and memories out on the rooftop with the moonlight and wind as his company.

* * *

 _Naples, Italy_

 _3_ _rd_ _August, 1482_

It had been so painfully easy to slip into the large villa that towered over the town below, with a sea of people churning in and out of the building at any given second. The peace talks had alit the city's curiosity and fear in equal measure, sprouting rumors abundant. Olivia had left the home of Enrico and Cecelia, thanking them for their hospitality and all they had done for her. Juilette had been so upset, but Olivia feared so greatly that if Cesare Borgia were to learn of her existence here in Naples that the small family would be caught up in it all. She had no desire to have innocent blood on her hands when she could prevent it.

The atmosphere of the entire was so stifling in its contradiction. A party was thrown by the nobility to dine and wine, before the peace talks began in the days that would follow yet the threaten of war hung over the grand ballroom like the plague. The more vapid nobles went about with smiles, almost deliberately unaware of the minefield that they were tiptoeing around caught between two forces that could declare war over the smallest slight with tension already so high. Olivia recalled growing up in a minefield reminiscent to the one she was observing now beneath her porcelain mask, and silk ball gown that she "borrowed" from a local shop that had closed up early. The tailor would not notice it missing until this affair was all over and hopefully, she would be gone with the wind by that time. Gossips, back stabbers, drunkards littered the dance floor reminding her of the people who spewed venom about her mother all those years ago.

Her mother, Emma Steel nee Anderson, had gone insane. A brain tumor that drove her past the point of no return even before she had passed away, and she recalled the way her father, Daniel, would smile when she'd do something bad, half-apologetic and half-excusing it all. It hadn't been until her mother nearly killed her, shoved her beneath the bathwater and held her there when she had only been six years old until her father had her put in the asylum. She died only a year afterwards, but those rumors—those nasty rumors lived on afterwards. Every small town had a woman like her mother, and had a daughter who followed in her footsteps. Or so the rumors implied.

Maybe that's why she let her father turn her into a toy soldier, afterwards. The stability of the training in the beginning had given her something to cling to, but in the end, it had just been another form of abuse. Daniel Steel had put his children through hell, trying to turn them into weapons for a purpose that was still unclear to this day to Olivia, pitting sibling against sibling in ugly survival exercise and it all had left a fractured, resentful relationship between her and her brother. Carl had been taken away by CPS after he had gotten sick, Olivia had been the one to call then having long since opened her eyes to the wrongness of the training her father had put them through, and after the most horrible verbal fight she had ever had with her father, Daniel disappeared out of her life when she was just barely a teenager. Years later, Carl and Olivia reconnected, but they never really became family again. And with Carl dead by her own two hands, they never would. She always mourned him and felt endless guilt over how she failed to save him from Juno's machinations.

Her entire life had been built on a fault-line, just one shake up away from everything crumbling down, and sometimes, she wondered if she hadn't made the same mistake here in the past. Had she built this life upon unsteady ground, and just another earthquake away from losing it all? The Shroud had taught her years ago that there were forces outside of her control, and she knew that at the end of the day that whatever love she felt for Ezio—she wouldn't be his forever love, even though he was hers. She decided then and there that she hated this building, and the people. She hated them for bringing up bad memories and painful doubts, and she downed the flute of champagne offered by a servant with a lack of finesse that drew more than one eye. She cared little for the judgment of strangers, and let them roll off of her like rain water. She placed the glass back on a tray of a servant she passed, and made her way through the throng of people with purpose flowing in her every step.

Her eyes peered taking every little detail around her, and her ears strained to grasp snippets of conversation that would lead her to her quarry. She didn't know what the King of Naples looked like upon sight, but it wasn't that hard to pinpoint members of great importance just by how people treated them with deference and wealth of their apparel. However, there were notable figures here for the peace talks so while she could slim it down to a handful of people. She couldn't, however, go up to them and just demanded to speak to them. It would turn this recon mission into a full-fledged disaster. And these conditions were ripe for mayhem.

Liquor flowing in cups with the people getting increasingly rowdy, the violent edge that trembled in scathing looks tossed between guards and soldiers, and all it took was one wrong move to send this party straight into a riot. Even the most benign soul could turn ugly in a riot for desperation made monsters out of men in the blink of an eye, Olivia knew this all too well. A brutish hand wrapped around her elbow and she found herself pulled against a bulbous man whose breath stank of alcohol. His round face was red and he slurred, "I have an empty lap that you'd fit in perfectly…"

"No," Livvy snarled, attempting to jerk her arm free. "Let me go."

"Now, don't be that way, poppet," the man chuckled, not seeing the deadly intent in the gray eyes that glared daggers at him. He reached out and groped her bottom with his meaty palm, squeezing it painfully. "If you be a good girl for me, I'll make sure you get paid your worth."

Olivia lost any ounce of decorum, and spat right in the bastard's face.

He startled, and then backhanded her across the face.

Olivia inhaled, sharply. It had hurt, but the hands man was nothing more than a drunkard with a self-indulgent physique. And she was no fluttering flower that would wilt underneath a sharp smack across the face. She had been hardened by her childhood and her existence as the Red Hood that followed in later years, and the smack was an annoyance like a fly in the ointment and nothing more. She reared back, prepared to raise her fist and break the man's jaw when a hand landed on her shoulder. She barely startled, her head cocked to the side and eyes narrowed at the well-dressed gentleman.

"Lord Felton, to attack my guests in such a thuggish manner is beneath you," the man declared, his voice deep and words held such precision that spoke of well-bred background. "You have insulted my hospitality and home and on the eve of such dreadful tidings that could mean war for our country. And to think you would break the peacefulness we strive so desperately for to soothe your own pride when a lovely bird denies you a dance."

Lord "Handsy" Felton cheeks turned darker, with embarrassment. "I—I—" He floundered for words, but with the unsteadiness of his feet, he was far too deeply into his drinks to find common sense. "Lord Ferdinard, I must apology—"

 _Ferdinard?_ Olivia's heart jolted.

"Apologize for your actions when you are sober enough to feel shame for them," Ferdinard I, the King of Naples, countered with a frosty tone. He snapped his fingers together, drawing the attention of a nearby male servant. "Please show Lord Felton to the guestroom where he may have a bit of respite for the rest of the evening to regain his senses and good manners, if you please."

The male servant bowed, and hastily led the intoxicated noble away.

"Forgive Lord Felton, milady, for his lack of decorum. Many have sought solace in the bottom of the bottle when dark times are on the horizon," Ferdinard replied, with a well-practiced and charming smile. He was not what one would label as traditional handsome, but he had a charisma about him that would draw suitors like bees to honey. He was a young man, only of four and twenty years but one would be a fool to underestimate him due to his age. Olivia had seen how easily he had disarmed Lord Felton with words as easy a breathing air, and she had a feeling it wouldn't have mattered if Felton had been more sober. In fact, she would bet every last coin she owned that he would have been less cordial and cut the man down to ribbons with his tongue if he had acted in that manner towards a woman without liquor as a poor excuse. "You seem…lost, if I might be so bold. If I may aid you in finding your way, I will endeavor to do so."

"I admit I was wandering around the party a bit aimlessly," Olivia replied, careful to adopt a high culture accent. Her voice had adapted over the many years she had been here in Italy, but the streets and the underbelly of the cities had been more of her world rather than the airs of the gentry had ever been. There was a distinct difference in the way common folk and the rich spoke, a discrepancy in the way the syllables rolled off the tongue. "I have been searching for a person that was not so inebriated that they could hold polite conversation. It sets a dismal precedence for the peace talks tomorrow if so few intellects like yourself are present."

"You flatter me, milady," Ferdinard accused, mildly. His hand fell away from her shoulder to clasp the puffy sleeve of the gown, his fingers pressed through the fabric to the hidden blade that lay beneath. "But I know that you aren't here for intellectual conversation. You should not have given yourself away so openly with so many Templars here. All it took was a second for me to see the hidden blade when you jerked your arm back from Lord Felton, and had I not been the one to reach you in time then your night would have ended on a much darker note."

She paused, briefly. He had mistaken her for one of the brotherhood, but she was still a bit leery of his forwardness. An assassin's life was riddled with paranoia, and one should not—or rather, could not just go by word alone in most instances. An assassin who held the title of King, must be doubly so paranoid given that matters of political intrigue and assassinations crossed more often than not. "Indeed, it would have taken a much dark course. I admit that knowing that Cesare Borgia was in attendance initially made me skittish in coming here, but the bigger the crowd gave me more opportunities to approach you, sire, so that we may speak of pressing matters," she answered, keeping her tone demure and modest. She did not want to appear overeager and add to any wariness that existed inside of him.

Ferdinard scrutinized her from head to toe, evaluating her carefully. "We may speak, but not here," he cautioned, with a small jerk of his head for her to follow him. He led her carefully away from the prying eyes of the crowd and down a hallway to a secluded room. In the center of the room looked like a war table with a great map and markers set upon it, but before Olivia could even get close the door was shut and locked behind her. She heard rather than saw Ferdinard draw his blade, and it took an exceeding amount of willpower not to instinctively lash up when she was pushed against a wall and felt the cold steel at her neck.

"I've received no word that a novice would come to these shores, and the only assassins I know that would be passing through descriptions resemble nothing of like you, milady," Ferdinard commented, his tone nonchalant but expression lethal. He flickered off the porcelain mask and allowing it to crash to the floor. It shattered into pieces, the noise almost deafening in the quiet room.

"I am no assassin, that is true," Livvy chose her words carefully. She understood that one misstep could spell her death, and she had no desire to meet her demise today. "But I am an ally to the Italian Brotherhood, and a close friend to Ezio Auditore da Firenze and his family. I'm Olivia Steel—"

"The Red Hood?" Ferdinard said, his expression stoic with a hint of a suspicion. His eyes bore into her, leave no room for deceit or lies to be put forth. His hand was steady; the blade of the dagger pressed against the hollow of her throat just enough to give warning but light enough not to shed unnecessary blood. This was a man who was mindful of himself and his movements, meticulous down to his every heartbeat. "You certainly fit the description of the woman, but such looks are not so wholly unique that you could not be someone attempting to pass off her identity as your own. Not many are aware of what happened to the Red Hood, but I am one of the few privileged to know what became of her."

Olivia held his burning gaze, lifting her hand in slow increments as though not to startle him and make a tense situation worse. She placed her open palm against the blade, careful to show him that she was not grabbing for it and sliced her skin wide open. She saw a flicker of surprise passed through his eyes, and she turned her palm out towards him. Blood dripped down her wrist in thin rivulets for a single second before the Shroud around her waist hummed and glowered, and she felt her skin stitch back together and the blood melt back into the flesh, disappearing without a trace. "If you are so well informed then you know that the Shroud of Eden stole me away from Monteriggioni nearly four years ago," Olivia stated, still ever mindful of the dagger at her throat. "I know not what happened to me during that time, nor what has transpired in my absence only that circumstance behind my disappearance and return seem tied to the precursor artifact."

"Precursor? An apt term to describe them," Ferdinard commented, rapping his fingertips across the pommel of his blade thoughtfully. A split second later, he withdrew from the blade from her neck and stepped back allowing her room to breathe. "It seems I believe your story, after all. You are fortunate that you found someone like myself that could cooperate your story, otherwise your bold plan may have ended very differently."

"A strange kind of fortune does seem to favor me," Olivia mused, slumped back against the wall. Her nerves were shaky and rattled. "I don't know if I need more or less of it."

"Tell me why you have sought me out, Lady Hood," Ferdinard beseeched, sheathing his weapon. He walked over to the table where liquor bottles sat undisturbed and poured him a small glass after Olivia declined a drink. "You do tempt fate with so many of Borgia's most dangerous loyalists here tonight. Rodrigo Borgia has not let go of his anger over his brother's loss, and while outwardly he had given up the mass headhunt for you, he still has agents that deploys that would be more than happy to collect the coin he is willing to pay for your head."

"I think my entire existence tempts fate, what is one more night?" Olivia smiled, thinly. "I have come here despite the risks to ask for aid to return back to Monteriggioni. My…strange return has left me isolated from my allies and I am sure given the amount of time that I have been gone…" Her smile slipped away and a deep frown settled upon her features. The twenty-seven year old woman pressed her hand to her lips, and let out a ragged sigh. "They probably think I'm dead and I fear no matter how many letters I send, I will not be able to persuade them to believe me. When I learned that you were part of the Brotherhood, I had hoped that I could count on your aid."

Ferdinard carefully sipped on his cognac, and twirled the glass between his fingers idly. "It is curious situation you have found yourself in, that is very true and I can see your plight with clear eyes," he inclined his head, thoughtfully. "But I don't know what manner of aid I can offer you at this time. I am under heavy scrutiny with the peace talks and afterwards the war that will come."

"You believe the peace talks will fail?"

"They have already failed thanks to Borgia," Ferdinard said, bitterly. "The peace talks are a farce so the Pope and Borgia family may spread propaganda about how generous they were being to allow us an opportunity to surrender without bloodshed. The people will never know that it is the Templars sowing the seeds of war and would have innocent bloodshed. It is a cruel fate that we assassins adhere to by fighting from the shadows."

"It is as that," Olivia agreed, quietly.

Ferdinard downed the rest of his drink with haste and rose out of his seat with a practiced grace. "I will send word to Machiavelli and Mario that you are alive and thriving. I can also see you passage on board of a ship by the end of next week," he offered, with a small smile. "I would send you as swiftly as I could on the next available to avoid the obvious dangers, but as I said anything I do is being heavily scrutinized meaning all of Naples is being watched with unblinking eyes. The letter I will send out immediately and with haste."

Her knees went weak with the amount of relief that flooded through her, and she grasped the edge of the nearby table to keep herself upright. She couldn't hide the gratefulness that swept across her features nor the glimmer of tears in her grey eyes. "Thank you, Lord Ferdinard," she told him, bowing her head. "Your aid is more than I thought I would find here in Naples. If you ever need aid from the Red Hood, it is yours."

"Perhaps one day, I will take you up on that," Ferdinard nodded, with a genuine grin. "For now, I would make your way out of the villa as quietly as possible. I send my lovely courtesan, Isabella, into town tomorrow to the local tavern to keep you updated on everything and she will act as a go to so as to not draw too much attention to yourself."

"A wise plan," Olivia agreed, seeing the logic behind it. It wouldn't be wise for her to show up here so often, especially given volatile climate that Naples currently was embroiled in. She thanked the King of Naples once again, noting the guards that stood at the door (only someone foolish would believe the man would face an unknown threat alone) when she left and she made her way through the party. She bumped into a man who was more interested the chest of the courtesan on his arm then looking where he was going, but on instinct, Olivia slipped out an apology only for it to be caught in her throat when she realized the person she crossed paths with was none other than Cesare Borgia. He looked so smug and arrogant, and a great deal younger than when he first appeared in Brotherhood. He almost looked boyish, charming, the guy that mother dreamed their daughters would bring home—a look that he would abandon with time, feeling no need to hide his vicious and dark side behind a saintly veil. However, she was not fooled by the façade. She knew what monster lay underneath and for a split second she felt rooted to the spot.

"Watch where you are going, idota," the courtesan spat, eyeing her with open disdain.

"My apologies," Olivia said, with a strained smile. She quickly ducked her head, and past them without another word. Shaken to her core, Olivia fled the villa like the devil himself was nipping at her heels.

* * *

END OF CHAPTER!

Thanks WinterChild97 for pointing out the dates. I didn't realize it. The Shroud is different than the one in syndicate.

AN: It's really sad that I forget Olivia's parents' names. I don't think I ever gave them specific names in the first story because they were on the back burner, but canon names are now Daniel and Emma. As I go back and edited LDaaC, I will change this to fit if I have them named something else. I apologize, it's really hard for continuity when I've been working on this series since 2012, but hopefully my edits will smooth out any bumps along the way. If anyone is curious in 1474, Ezio was 17 and Olivia was 19. Ezio currently is 25 and Olivia is 27.

Please Leave a Review! :D


	4. Of We Broken Few

Disclaimer: I own nothing from Assassins Creed, not the games, movies, or books. Nothing! No Ezio. No Altair. I own nothing. This is purely for amusement, nothing else! I just write to better myself as a writer, and learn and develop my style. And for the readers enjoyment, after all.

Summary: Will you live or will you die? That is the question that Olivia Steel faces as her life is on a collision course with danger and a reunion with the man, Ezio Auditore—the man she loved and left behind three years ago. With more secrets than she can carry, will Olivia be able to change the tide in the never ending battle of Assassins versus Templars? Or will she be the one to seal their fates?

Pairings: Olivia(OC)/Ezio, sort of established romance

Author's Note: This is a sequel to "Life, Death and a Choice". You don't necessarily need to read that to enjoy this story, but if you don't want to feel lost at times, I suggest going to read that before this one. (*Also note that Life, Death, and a Choice is currently be edited! Chapter 12 and up have yet to be edited and updated!) This story will definitely have a different tone than the last one, but will not feel too separate from it I hope. Anyways, I hope that you all enjoy it and come to love it.

Assassins Creed Renaissance: This books helped me a lot with Ezio's point of view as well as the game, so I wanted to throw in a disclaimer here. It's not word for word what's in the book, but some parts may seem familiar.

I want to thank DannyPhantom619, Jadestone112, LaPersphone, LovelyThorn, Randomfox77, Shadow Operative, Sheity Williams, Sketchninja7, The Chaos of the Stars, c8499145, justme2134, Antyto-sama, Tyvot, unconditionally-infinite, dovakinrules, Shy911, Cho Tamazaki, ohnodddd, DarkDust27, Jade Celandine, girl falcona, Ashalenn, Yuuki Tsukiyomi, Dragon'sMaw, North Moonlight, Gen0cideRun, RachluvsMerlin, mute-by-choice, Pr1me Gurl, TwilightMelodic, swishyla, Bellamy49, acliecasket, Wickara, WinterChild7, Snow-Nightshade, Valshaena, Nefertare, DeLacus, mucasara, kimmay94, Savage Kill, InsightfulDaemon, M0rgan Lef4y, Dragockon, evilninjadog, Yellow Eggplant, AMacca16, AngelElmarlienHenning, Offtimeotaku, The Angel's Devil, Ryoko K, RomainieSweetheart, Shaka-laka-BOOM-girl, AndrianaWarrior7, mcilwainsamantha, lunerbunny, Monkey D. Umi, nights angels 96, for all the favs. :D

I want to thank Azminara, Delphine Pryde, Fredegar, Jadestone112, LaPersephone, Randomfox77, Sheity Williams, Shketchninja7, Special Agent Author, The Chaos of the Stars, ThisIsHope, c8499145, justme2134, Antyto-sama, Lilith67, ShioriOokami, Tyvot, unconditionally-infinite, Kementari689, relena soulheart, Shy911, Assassinwonderer, DannyPhantom619, DarkDust27, Yuuki Tsukiyomi, Dragon'sMaw, North Moonlight, Dance FLY, Gen0cideRun, DayDreaminGirl, Adamantia13, RachluvsMerlin, mute-by-choice, Kira-Katashi, Pr1me Gurl, ArtemisFullmoon, TwilightMelodic, ToaKage, masterdude94, swishyla, Bellamy49, alicecasket, salinagriego, Wickara, WinterChild7, HimeGee17, Frodos Magic Ring, Snow-Nightshade, Valshaena, Nefertare, DeLacus, whitewolf7410, InsightfulDaemon, Smiling cat from down under, M0rgan Lef4y, Dragockon, PondRiverWilliams, KillerKhaos, evilninjadog, CalebIsACactus, AMacca16, AngelElmarlienHenning, Xiumin825, Offtimeotaku, RomaineSweetheart, Shaka-laka-BOOM-girl, mcilwainsamantha, lunderbunny, Monkey D. Umi, nights angels 96 for the follows! :D

I want to thank Shy 911, DannyPhantom619, Guest, WinterChild7, Guest 2, Player One, DeLacus, Sarah, Guest 3, Savage Kill, Yellow Eggplant for the reviews!

Guest Reviews:

Guest 1: Thank you so much. I do try to have a good plot planned out, and have been hammering out the fine details with the editing and the sequel. :D

Guest 2: Thank you! Some mistakes do slip past me, I will edit the older chapters when I get the chance to review them and everything. It's been busy. That's okay, I'm flattered that you take the time to read this one. :D

Player One: It's a secret! ;)

Sarah: Yay! Thanks! I'm working on more chapters, it's been so going!

Guest 3: Aw, thank you so much! I'm glad that you've enjoyed Ezio so much in my story to make the game more enjoyable in some small way. Ezio is one of the reason that I love the AC series so much. I'm so happy that you've enjoyed my Made of Stone, too. I hope the future chapters prove to be just as enjoyable as the ones you've read so far. :D

I want to thank "Wondrous World-Hopping" for adding my story to their communities.

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE! I HOPE 2019 BRINGS EVERYONE MUCH JOY AND HAPPINESS! :D

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I am still editing Life, Death and a Choice. I have chapters 12 and added a never seen before bonus chapter. Chapter 13 will have to be edited and updated, so any inconsistency will hammered up by the time the whole of LDaaC is edited and will flow with The Lie of Purgatory!

AUTHOR'S NOTE 2: Naples is not all that far away from Venice, about an 8 hour drive in modern times. However in this time period to go there by boat would have been a lengthy journey. It required sailing around the boot shaped peninsula of Italy and then up the channel across the Ionian Sea and the Adriatic Sea. To say this would be a week's travel is very optimistic, especially in the 1400s hundreds. I've tried to estimate how long the travel would actually be, but no such site has really helped me out so I'm going with a two week travel if weather conditions permit it.

Songs that Inspired this Chapter:

Olivia's Main Theme Song: "Rise" by State of Mine

"Breaking Inside" by Shinedown

"Paint It Black" by Hidden Citizens

* * *

 **Chapter Four**

 **"Of We Broken Few"**

" _I see your red door, I want it painted black,_

 _No colors any more, I want them to turn black."_

" _Paint it Black", Hidden Citizens_

* * *

 _12_ _th_ _February 2011_

 _Monteriggioni, Italy_

 _Auditore Villa_

Leo was having a bit of a meltdown, lying back in the animus while Rebecca finished up the last minute specs on his DNA analysis. He had a terrible tick when it came to his anxiety, and that was _rambling._ No, not just normal rambling. He rambled, the words spilling out of his mouth only seemed to increase and feed his anxiety, sending down a black hole of despair. He wasn't sure what he started to ramble about, it could have been something as innocuous as the weather but it didn't stay about the weather. "What if I catch a disease? Can you catch a disease through the animus? Measles? Plagues? Racism?" He added, as an afterthought.

Rebecca snorted.

"Hey, you laugh, but racism legit works like a disease." Leo jabbed a finger in her direction. "It's like a plague of ignorance that destroys all common sense."

"You aren't going to catch racism," the techie told him, patting his hand consolingly.

Leo pouted, at the patronizing way she spoke to him but settled back into the chair. "Good. Good. I like not being an asshole. I mean, I can be a pain in the ass, but—" he choked, when Shawn passed by an unceremoniously shoved a piece of toast from his plate into Leo's mouth. Pulling the buttered toast free from his teeth causing a tidal wave of crumbs to fall down across his chin, he scowled at the historian. "Hey!"

"You'll be fine," Shawn told him, in his usual dry tone. "Stop being such a baby."

"I am not—" Leo clamped his mouth shut, because he was _not_ about to get into a "are too/are not" argument with the man. Instead, he ate the piece of toast with zeal as a small way to get back at Shawn for being his normal prickly self. He muttered unflattering things underneath his breath, while wiping crumbs off with his sleeve when William Miles walked into the room. He went still and wide eyed at the man's unexpected appearance, and only a split second later Desmond tumbled in after.

Desmond had clearly seen better days. He was sweaty, his clothes rumbled from training and there was a bruise on his upper cheek. He looked ready to keel over and pass out, and Leo didn't know how he was managing to still stand. _Damn. William wasn't kidding about seriously training him, now was he?_ Leo thought, internally wincing in sympathy for the younger man. Though despite his bedraggled appearance, there was something…lighter in Desmond's eyes. Like a weight of some sort had been lifted.

"Pardon for the intrusion, I just wanted to stop by and let you know that the Council has approved of your excursion," William informed them, with a half-smile. "You won't get free reign to just run about, so you will have a Council approved assassin going with you, but the fact they are even letting you go after the painting at all is more than I thought we would get. A private jet has been set to embark in two days' time, so you all need to figure out who is going on the trip and who will stay behind."

"I'm definitely going," Desmond said, immediately.

"Uh, I'll opt out," Leo added, with a half grin. "I'm not an assassin, nor do I possess one ounce of badassery so me going into a potential Templar stronghold is just asking for bad things to happen."

"If Leo's staying, then I'll stay, too," Rebecca commented, rolling back in her computer chair to face William. "The sooner we get proof of his story, the sooner we can hand it over to the Council and avoid a potential migraine of epic proportions."

"I'll stay here with Rebecca and help monitor Leo's progress," Lucy responded, arms folded over her chest. "Shawn, do you think you can get along with Desmond long enough to work with him? You are the historian here, and if anyone can tell that paintings authenticity out of all of us, it would be you."

"We haven't killed each other, despite the number of close calls," Shawn drawled out, with a sarcastic huff. He glanced over at Desmond, and gave a mild roll of his eyes. "I suppose I can put up with Desmond long enough to get there and get back in one piece."

"Hey, I am a delight!" Desmond said, defensively.

"I'm sorry what was that you said? I was in the middle of not caring."

"I can see this will go swimmingly well," William sighed, heavily. "Just make sure to take the mission seriously, and to work with the assigned assassin appropriately. That means no jumping the gun and no running in half-cocked, either. We are already looking into blue prints and security details on the castle. You will receive those when you all arrive in London and meet with our contact there. Until then, you are free from training Desmond. It won't do to have you exhausted before your official first mission."

"Normally," Desmond grunted, limping slightly, "I would take offense to that backhanded jab, but I'm too sore and sweaty and exhausted to care. I'm going to take a shower and then fall face first into some pillows and nothing short of the apocalypse better wake me up."

"Not even for food?" Rebecca grinned.

"Not even for food," Desmond said, with a shudder. "I can't think about food. Not after my dad decided to ram his knee right into my gut. Just no, no, thank you."

"I'm not your father when training, Desmond," William chided, with a mild tone. "I have to be an impartial teacher, and that means training you to fight against people who will be far more brutal than I."

"Fair point," Desmond conceded, after a moment.

"I'm going to go make sure everything with the jet is in order," William stated, with a dip of his head. "If you all need me, I will be up in my office."

Leo watched the man leave the room, in silence and when the door closed behind the Master Assassin, his head jerked towards Desmond. "So you two kicking each-others' asses soothe old wounds, or what?" He asked, being incredibly nosy. His curious held the power of ten cats because he _liked_ knowing things, and despised being out of the loop.

"Nah, there is still…lingering issues between my dad and I," Desmond replied, with a shrug of his shoulders. His brows were knotted together and eyes narrowed speculatively. "I guess, it makes it easier to see things now. This version of my dad—the person he is now, he isn't cold and closed off. Not like the dictator I feared growing up before all these changes in the timeline. He's still stern and serious, but there's…something more human to him. More like the father I always wanted, but never could quite reach before. I don't know, maybe that sounds a bit too cheesy."

"Nah. It doesn't," Leo said, with a genuine smile that made his eyes crinkle. "I know what it is like to constantly seek a father's approval. I never quite measured up in my dad's own eyes, but if there was a better way I could have understood him and his thoughts—even if it didn't make things magically better, I think it might have been nice to have had that chance. I'm glad that you do."

"Breathe deep," Rebecca warned Leo. Her hand steady on his arm, and the IV needle poised in-between her fingers.

"Ugh, I hate needles," Leo mumbled, turning slightly green. He turned his head away from her, and his throat bobbed harshly. Drawing in a deep breath, he fought to keep relaxed while she pushed the tiny piece of metal into his arm. It was less painful than a bee string, and hurt for all of a second but still sent a shudder down his spine. "Okay…okay, now that's over," he said, voice high pitched and his eyes studiously not looking at his arm, "when do we put me in the animus?"

"Just sit back and relax. Closing your eyes helps," Rebecca smiled, rolling away in her chair towards the computer desk. "We'll have you inside the animus in just a few minutes. We picked an ancestor of yours in the heart of the American Revolution, which is a notable footnote in Assassin and Templar history."

Leo released a shaky breath, and closed his eyes. He relaxed against the chair which wasn't horribly uncomfortable, and part of him wonder if being inside of the animus was a bit like dreaming. He would be laying down like he was asleep, but his mind would being going on like fireworks trying to absorb the information being thrown at him.

"If we can find any discrepancies about Connor Kenway, or Haytham Kenway, that might just be enough evidence to get the Council off of our backs temporarily," Shawn said, his tone strangely quiet. "They'll want more than just that. They'll want to see how far the differences go, but it should be enough to convince them not to bring hellfire down on our heads."

"They are that scary?" Desmond questioned.

"Yes," Lucy responded, warily. "The Council is the backbone of the Brotherhood, Desmond. They have to be the hammer of justice and the hand of mercy, keeping the secret of the Assassins' existence while planning against threats from outside and…" Her voice wavered for all of a second, but Leo twitched at the slight hesitation. "And threats from the inside," she continued, after she cleared her throat lightly. "It's a difficult balance, and there are a lot of rules and laws that are meant to preserve and protect the Brotherhood. Allowing Leo to stay among other things has broken several of the cardinal rules. They could very well disband us, and hand over our research and your animus journeys to other people."

"That's not going to happen," Desmond said, flatly.

"Let's hope not," Shawn huffed. "Alright, Leo. Everything is set up. You'll be going in three…two…one…"

Leo heard a slight buzz in his ear, and there was a whirl from the machine beneath him while a little pulse of electricity from the headrest behind him stimulated something deep within his brain. It was _similar_ to falling asleep, but there was an edge of anxiety that came with it. It wasn't his body's natural path to slumber, which set off a bunch of alarm bells and natural instinct to pry his eyes open. The sedative in the IV however, curb that impulse just enough for him to slide into the memories of ancestor James Morrison and the rest of the world around melted away into the muddy unpaved streets of Boston in 1772.

* * *

 _The Kingdom of Naples, Italy_

 _6_ _th_ _August 1482_

Staring out at the sea, Olivia Steel had a forlorn air that surrounded her.

She felt lost, and forgotten, the long the days ticked by. The cavity of pain within her grew until it could rival the deepest of canyons, but she somehow managed to keep her head, facing each sunrise with hope clutched tightly in her grasp. She drew in a deep breath, savoring the salty sea breeze and watched the waves crest against the sandy shores. Olivia had done as the King of Naples suggested, and had kept to the shadows. The massive inflow of people into the port city hadn't made it difficult to keep herself out of sight and beneath notice. If there was a single regret was to be had, it was leaving Enrico and his family who had been so good to her behind. The memory of sadness in Juliet's face when she had to do so cut her to her core.

But that did not mean that she was without care. Her fingers brushed the fabric around her waist—too fine and soft to be made by human hands. Outwardly the Shroud did not appear like anything other than a normal cloth, but she felt the thrum of power that sang sweetly off of it like a siren's song. _Does anyone else hear it, I wonder?_ She thought, with a minute frown on her features. She feared the Piece of Eden would be stolen, that she wouldn't be able to protect it. With a heavy heart, Olivia turned away from the sea and promised only to greet it again when she was aboard a ship sailing back to the places she knew. Blinking against the sun, she made out a silhouette of a woman rushing towards her at an alarming speed.

Her wrist tensed, the hidden blade at the ready until the blurry figure came closer into view and Olivia saw that it was Isabella—Ferdinand's lover and occasional messenger—that approached her. She was too young—only turned nineteen years old a few months ago, and had been a courtesan going on four years now, much to Olivia's horror. The King of Naples had taken a shine to the young woman about two years ago, saving her from toiling away at the bordello. Still Olivia couldn't imagine being only fifteen years old and having to sell your body to make coin, it was heartbreaking to her.

Isabella's story reminded her of Ciana, though the pair shared little to nothing in common in looks or personality. Only the desperate dream that they did not have to spend the rest of their lives used for other's pleasure. That one day that they could stand on their own and free from whatever chains or burdens were placed upon them, so perhaps that's why Olivia took a shine to the young girl and felt determined to take her underneath her wing.

By the time Isabella reached her, she was swaying on her feet and inconsolable with tears. The younger woman threw herself into Olivia's arm and sobbed into her neck.

"Isabella?" Olivia asked, worriedly. "What's wrong? What's the matter?"

"It's terrible, milady!" Isabella answered, after a couple of sniffles. "Ferdinand sent your letters as requested, when he learned of something horrible. He has reason to believe that there is a traitor amongst his ranks and confidants. He believes they may have passed information about you off to the Borgia family."

Dread sank like a cold stone in Olivia's stomach. "What do you mean?"

"A conspiracy, milady," Isabella wept, using the handkerchief that Olivia pulled out of her pocket to wipe away her tears. "A horrible conspiracy conjured up over the last few days' passing. That is why Cesare Borgia and his vessel have not left Naples. They are searching for you, the Red Hood. We fear greatly for your safety. Ferdinand wants to offer you a ship to get you safely out of harbor, but…"

"But?" Olivia said, her grey eyes focused on the courtesan.

"But it isn't going to Venice," Isabella replied, regret shining bright in her eyes. "It makes way for Spain. He knows that you wish to return to your loved ones immediately, but he fears that we cannot wait for a vessel to do so."

Livvy felt the hope in her hands crumble into dust. Her shoulders hunched forward, and she fought to keep her expression absolutely subdued and neutral upon hearing this news. It was like every step forward, only landed her another two backwards. A scream bubbled up in her throat, making her wish that she could just scream out all her frustrations and everything would be magically fixed once the silence settled in afterwards. It was a childish and unhelpful impulse, but damn if a good scream wouldn't make her feel good right about now. "Alright," she breathed out, her voice strangled by her emotions. "Alright. I'll do it."

Isabella nodded her head. "Good," she said, a bit woodenly. "I'll give you a time and place to meet our contact who will offer you safe passage."

The courtesan walked away, still very teary eyed while Olivia sank down on to the beach, feeling utterly numb. Stubbornly, she rest there on her knees and buried her face into the palms of her hands. "Please just wait for me. I know you don't know if you even know I'm alive yet, but please wait for me," she prayed, feeling scalding knees slid across her face. She choked down the pitiful whine wedged in the back of her throat. After four deep breaths, she scrubbed her face clear of tears and pushed herself to her feet.

She couldn't stand being still a moment longer, drowning in self-pity and grief.

Olivia took to the rooftops of Naples, feeling the wind as she raced across them. Out running her emotions, out running her problems, out running anything that was not freedom.

* * *

 _Venice, Italy_

 _7_ _th_ _August 1482_

The Thieves' Guild tackled the task of reorganizing and refitting. It was a difficult process that would take a few months before it was strong enough to even think of infiltrating the Palazzo Seta. The reputations of the Guild had to be built up from the ashes, from where the city guards underneath the machinations of the Templars had reduced their ranks and their success. Ezio spent his nights, helping the Guild steal gold from a good number of Emilio's backers and terrorizing the military fort by stealing their supplies and revenues. Not a single thief had been caught making them illusive as ghosts, and so the rumors began to float across the streets. Rumors were a most powerful weapon for those that live in the shadows, and Ezio had learned a lot of how to utilize them from one the best, the Red Hood.

Olivia had used rumors to build a mask, a deceitful reputation surrounding the Red Hood. Tales spoke of man who enjoyed his ale and the company of women, who was wily and clever and sinful that made the stories only grow over time like weeds. He imagined Olivia would have liked the Guild. She would have gotten along swimmingly with Rosa and Antonio would be charmed by her sharp tongue. She would have taken Venice by storm with a smile and a dagger behind her back, and he felt his heart ache while he entertained such notions. He knew that he clung to the ghosts of his past, seeped himself in the pain and anger that the memories brought him to drive him forward, but then there were moments like these.

Moments where he let the regrets settle like a weight on his chest, and allowed them to take residency in his mind, if only to think of how different things could have been if the people he loved were still here besides him. His nostril flared as he released a slow steady breath, rubbing the tension out of the back of his hand while staring down at the codex with thinly veiled frustration. He had been learning underneath Leonardo how to decode the pages himself, on the rare occasion that the inventor was not available. He reached up, rubbing his tired eyes and heaved a deep sigh.

"I take it that you work is going slow, hmm?" Antonio questioned, his long fingers picked up another mannequin and moved its place on the model of the Palazzo Seta. His free hand cupped his chin thoughtful as his eyes scanned and plotted out several strategies. Antonio might be a thief, but he had the mind of a military general. If life had been more fortunate to see him born to a wealthier family, he would not have been stuck at the bottom of the ladder in a slowly changing society.

Ezio snorted, lightly. "I fear that academics do not come as naturally to me as battle does," the Assassin admitted, with a fleeting grin. He rolled up the Codex page, and set it aside on the desk before he approached the Guild Master. "I suppose I should go visit Leonardo when he is not busy with the work he is doing for his patrons. What are you working on, Antonio?"

"When the Guild is secure and strong, we must work to cripple Emilio's grip on the city. He is one of many Templars that hold sway over the people and the guards. There are a number ways to strike against him, but I believe Emilio's warehouse should be where we strike first. It is not far from his palazzo." He tapped the model, indicating which building he spoke of and then he traced his finger up to the little blue wooden soldiers ranged around the perimeters of the warehouse. "These are Emilio's archers. They represent the greatest dangers, and that means it would be best to strike at night. We are comfortable fighting within the shadows, and what they cannot see—"

"They cannot hit." Ezio nodded. "Go on."

"And given that you are the only one capable of scaling such heights as of right now, it is you that will have to take them out, but quietly. We do not want to draw attention," Antonio said, contemplating the model with an intense gaze. "As you do so, our men, will move in from the alleyway and take their places. They'll take the uniforms from the dead guards, so please if you can avoid too much blood letting it would be appreciated."

Ezio chuckled. "Alright. I will do my best, but as you've said this is not a goal for the immediate future, so tell me what can I do right now to help aid the Guild?"

Antonio considered it for all of a moment, when his eyes lit up with an epiphany. "There is a man named, Galasso Rossi. He is a wealthy merchant who has all, but sold his soul to Emilio and the Templars. He makes it very difficult for us to funnel our goods through the market as needed," the Guild Master stated, with a quirk of his lips.

"Tell me where to find him and the deed will be done," Ezio promised, with a smirk. He was a bit eager to get out of this building, and do something that felt productive as opposed to giving himself a migraine trying to work out what new cipher that Altair used for his latest codex page.

"His shop is set just a ways down past the Venetian Arsenal," Antonio stated, with a light chuckle. "While he is a well-known merchant, he has cheated a number of good people, and does a few a guards on rotation at his shop to safeguard it. None so well equipped to trouble on such as yourself, but better to make yourself scarce. I do not care what you do with the man, whether it is simply to destroy his stocks beyond repair, or to claim his life, or some arrangement of two—just do it quickly and without grave injury to yourself. Wouldn't do well for anyone if the great Assassin was injured, no?"

Ezio snorted, lightly. "I'll be back before dawn."

The streets of Venice were still relatively new to him, so he spent some days scouting out new places and ways to get about. It would not due for him to get caught in a dead end with guards on his tail, after all. He was intimately familiar with the area around the Venetian Arsenal given that the Doge was a Templar, and had control over much of the politic clout of the city, therefore also having sway over the military. If worst came to worst, Ezio wanted to dismantle his enemies in the most swift and sufficient way possible, so the Thieves Guild slowly been learning the ins and outs of the military base. He made his way past it, silently moving along with a crowd of revelers who had one too many drinks. The guards did not bait an eye, too tired to care or too new to recognize the white hood as a possible threat.

It was easy to find Galasso's shop. It was the only merchant shop that had guards protecting it, and was in perfect condition where other shops seemed haggard from lack of use or abuse from those who wanted to control the market and put certain people out of business. It wasn't an overly elaborate shop by Venice standards, nor so extravagantly large that he'd have trouble finding his way through like a maze. Now he just had to decide what to do about the guards, and out of his peripheral vision, he saw a group of courtesan sashaying their way through the streets idly.

He paid them a fair amount of coin, and withdrew into the shadows. His eyes watched how they enticed the guards with whistle and coy looks, and ultimately the guards gave into temptation, following the women of the night to somewhere more private. The Assassin made his way quickly to the unguarded door, and picked the lock with finesse as if he had been doing so for all his life. Sometimes, he pondered with a wry and slightly sad smile, it did feel that being an Assassin had been all of his life.

He entered the shop, closing the door behind on a whisper. His eyes flashed a deeper golden, his heightened sense of sight scouring the room for anything that would flash in his vision. He inspected the inventory book, making note of several names and numbers that didn't quite match up right. It seemed there was some kind of scheme going on, and Ezio bet that Galasso was importing something for the Templars. He searched around, finding a few new throwing knives to nick for himself before he scaled the stairs and opened a few doors to find a shipment of weapons and black powder. His brows lifted upward towards his hairline, and his lips parted in mute surprise by the sheer number of the arsenal. _Galasso must be helping supply the garrison off the books,_ Ezio thought, with a quiet oath spoken underneath his breath.

He couldn't leave this weapons be, and he wasn't sure if he had the time to spare to assemble a team to sneak them out to the Guild. His best option was to destroy them, and a glance at black powder, Ezio smirked. Unlocking the window, so he had a hasty escape because it would not due to get caught in the explosion. He reached into the pouch at his waist and pulled out a couple of tiny fireworks. They had been made by Leonardo who had been fascinated with the process, and the Assassin felt a wave of nostalgia overcome him, recalling the way that the Red Hood had lit up the party where Ezio had killed Uberto all those years ago. She promised him a distraction, and delivered on it in the most unexpected way. It had made one of the worst days of his life bearable, looking back at the childish and mischievous way that Olivia had handled the task of aiding him. Tying the wicks together and set the tiny fireworks on the edge of the barrel, Ezio straddled the edge of the window sill and reached for the nearby torch.

He heard the door creak open, and he glanced up to see Galasso entering the room. "Damn guards, leaving this place unprotected—" The merchant looked up, and gaped at the Assassin at the window. "You—what are you doing here?"

Ezio said nothing, tossing the torch into the nearest barrel and dropping out of the window in a graceful headfirst fall towards the waters below. The hiss of the fireworks and the bright sparks of color were followed by the abrupt explosion of the gunpowder a second afterwards, and he saw the side of the building blow apart just before his body slammed into surface of the water. His arms outstretch ahead of him to cut through it, and he swam as fast as his body would take him. Rocks and debris fell into the water all around him, but thankfully, nothing so big that he would have to worry for his safety.

He made it to the other side of the canal and climbed up onto the streets, with a self-satisfied grin on his face. It fell away after a moment when a strange sort of melancholy fell over him, like he had forgotten something very important and should hold his breath, waiting for the next shoe to drop. Gritting his teeth together, Ezio shook off the feeling as best as he could and made his way back towards the Thieves Guild. He deserved a good rest and to sleep in past the dawn, without Rosa marching into his room and dropping water all over him.

* * *

 _12_ _th_ _February 2011_

 _Monteriggioni, Italy_

 _Auditore Villa_

Steaming hot water cascaded down from the top mount shower head, and Desmond released a long deep breath, trying to scrub away the ache that resided in his muscles. He had never been so thoroughly exhausted in his entire life, and he had thought the training couldn't have been that much harder than the routine he had established under Lucy and Shawn's watchful eyes. He mused over recent events, and how the world got all twisted up, in a never ending cycle of being turned upside down at the drop of a hat. He poured a generous amount of spicy orange, lime and basil body wash into the palm of his hand, lathering up until he was covered in suds and the scent of the cleanser soothed his nerves.

He lingered in the shower until the temperature in the water started to drop. After quickly finishing washing off, Desmond turned off the faucet and got out of the shower. He wrapped a towel around his waist, and he strode into his bedroom only to stumble in shock at Lucy sitting there on the edge of the bed. Her head turned in his direction, and she did a double take at his state of undress, her mouth falling open. A blush spread across her face and she stuttered out, "Wh-what are you doing in just a towel?"

"It's my room," Desmond defended, hotly. "I'm allowed to be naked or semi-naked in my room!"

Lucy blew out her cheeks, eyes darted away from him. "Well, well, that's…true," she admitted, reluctantly. "I should have knocked. I'm sorry, I just had something that I wanted to talk to you about—"

"And it can't wait until I'm dressed?" He asked, a teasing edge crept into his voice. He was pleased to see the blush on her cheeks deepen until she looked like she was imitating a tomato, and her eyes narrowed into slits when she realized what he was doing.

"You are—" Lucy cut off abruptly, and turned around. "Alright. I'm going to go sit in the living area to wait until you are dressed, but this…this is something I need to tell you."

Desmond felt his amusement dwindled down at the uncertainty on her face, the deep seated fear that radiated off of her and the way she glanced at him, then quickly away as if holding his gaze was unbearable. She walked out of the room and Desmond could feel all the old tension sidled right up back underneath his skin while he grabbed his clean clothes, hastily pulling them on. He walked out of the bedroom into the living area where Lucy sat on a couch, staring out aimlessly out in front of her. He would almost say that she was watching the television, if it weren't for the face it was turned off. "Lucy?" He said, cautiously tapping her on the shoulder.

Lucy jumped like she had been bit.

"Lucy," he whispered, a concerned frown on his lips, "what's wrong? What's going on? Is it about the mission, or the Assassin that will be coming in?"

"No, no," Lucy replied, shaking her head. "Please, just—just sit down."

"Okay…" He agreed slowly. He took a seat just off to the right of the couch, facing her and his dark eyes swept across her from head to toe. There was something like shame that was etched into a knot along her brow, and intense self-loathing that sat behind a glimmer of tears. The column of her throat slid up and down, a shaky swallow and her hands were clasped in her hands tightly. "Tell me what's going on."

For a moment, Lucy didn't say anything. Her mouth opened, but it was as if something had stolen her voice. A helpless look crossed over her features and it was swiftly followed by defeat, her shoulders slumped and she curled in on herself ever so slightly. "In the original timeline, before…before Olivia Steel showed up and changed things," Lucy responded, her voice raspy and strained. "I betrayed the Assassins, and I was working with Vidic…"

Desmond reeled back, the words hit him like a bolt of lightning. It traveled white-hot down his spine, while all his instincts screamed at him to remove the threat. It was an effort of sheer willpower to sit there, motionless and not give into his most base reaction to this unexpected betrayal. His heart was twisted in his chest, disbelief and shock that tore him up from the inside out. His expression didn't change, except for the sharpness of his gaze where he stared at the shaking blond unblinkingly.

There were several moments that he couldn't breathe. It was like his body had forgotten how to do so, and then slowly like molasses in the sun, all thoughts and animation returned him. His posture loosened, but was by no means relaxed. "Are you working for the Templars now?" He asked, his eyes stared at her hard. He didn't know how he hadn't seen it before because Lucy was terribly expressive and horrible at lying. He had played off the constant worry and dark circles as her just being under an enormous amount of stress, and she had been under pressure. But it had been stress due to a lie, not the constant work for the brotherhood. It seemed to be a decision she seemed to regret down to the depths of her soul.

"No! I swear I'm not!" Lucy replied, in earnest. The tears that leaked out of the corners of her eyes, and her voice cracked with pain. Remorse and shame were etched into her features and she swallowed thickly, reaching up to wipe away the tears before they fell. "I'll go to your dad or anyone, if you want me to and tell them so they can verify the truth of my words, but I swear to you I'm not a Templar. Not in this life."

There was a long pause, where everything in the room seemed to still. It was like a vacuum created by the painful truth, and Desmond wasn't sure what to do. He could feel that something important hinged on what he did next again, and he ran a hand up across his short hair. He was undeniably hurt by this because Lucy had been the first person he started to trust after being kidnapped by Abstergo, and had become his lifeline that helped him through some tough times. It didn't help that he had developed feelings for her, deep and romantic feelings. The cords in his neck tightened and then relaxed on a sigh, his body slumping down into his seat and his hands resting on the armrests.

"Okay then," were the words that slipped out his mouth.

Her jaw went slack, her eyes rounded. "O-okay then?"

"Yeah, okay," Desmond nodded, slowly. He had a million different thoughts in his head, but a seed of resolve blossomed inside of him.

She blinked, a bewildered look fixated on her face. "Okay? Okay?" Her voice raised several octaves, and she threw her hands up in frustration. "How can you just sit there and say okay after what I just told you? Do you—you have any sense of self-preservation at all? I could be lying to you, telling you all this to lure you into a false sense of security!"

"You could be," Desmond acknowledged, "but you're not."

Lucy gave him a sharp look, her lips puckered together like they did when Shawn and Rebecca would start nagging each other incessantly. "How can you just accept that?" She demanded, her voice pitched low and her head shook side to side.

"Because you didn't betray us, not this time around," Desmond shrugged, his brows knitted together. There was a lot of differences to get used to in this new world that was shaping around them, and while her confession had been jarring, he couldn't hold her hostage over a different lifetime's sin. "You chose not to be a Templar this time, Lucy. I don't know how the choice lined up, or what all was different to make you make a different choice in the original timeline, but you did. That's what matters."

"But it _did_ happen!" Lucy said, her voice shrill.

Desmond shifted, leaning forward and bracing his elbows on his knees. He made a steeple with his hands, and peered over it at her. "This is really bothering you, isn't it?" He asked, his voice neutral. A lot of people didn't give him enough credit. He wasn't just dumb runaway, he had to have smarts in order to survive all that he did even before Abstergo captured him, but his one flaw was that he tried to look for the best in people. He treated everyone as if they were worthy of trust until they proved him wrong, and if Lucy had been a Templar this time around, he would have felt the full force of that broken trust. His feelings for her ran very deep, probably deeper than she knew.

But she didn't betray them in this lifetime, and that meant she was still worthy of that trust. He was going out on a limb because if the roles had been reversed, he'd hoped that she would do the same for him.

"It does bother _me_! It should bother you, too!" The blond said, with a scathing tone. She was the picture of misery and fear, with her hands trembling in the air as she waved them nervously around. "How can you…just absolve me of that?"

He considered the question, carefully. Her admission had caused an initial sting, a slight flare of betrayal that melted away at the sheer self-loathing he saw in her eyes. As much of a brave face she put on, Lucy was tearing herself apart at the seams with what she had done in the previous timeline. "You could have chosen to keep quiet and just carried on your way. Who would have known, but you about your betrayal? I mean, the timeline changed and you aren't the person who you were in that one," Desmond spoke, choosing his words carefully. "You could have taken it to the grave and just accepted the second chance that Olivia Steel's meddling in the past presented. You didn't have to confess, you didn't have to come here, but you did because you can't take the _easy_ way out. You want to be worthy of being here and being a part of this, but your guilt won't let you just go about things quietly. You want to earn back the trust you don't think you deserve, Lucy, and that's why I can say that I believe you."

More tears spill down her cheeks, and a sob tore through her.

"It may take a lot of time to reconcile the changes with yourself," Desmond continued, taking her hand into his and holding it tight. "It might take time to reconcile things with the others, when you tell them because I know you conscious won't let you do any less. But I think I know you, Lucy. I know how it feels to be cornered and trapped, with a million regrets and seemingly no way out—at least, with no good way out. This change in times, you know have that chance. So do what you have to, and make the best of it."

Lucy sniffled, wiping away the tears on her sleeve. Her shoulders trembled, her lips pursed tightly together as she fought for some kind of composure. Finally, a watery laugh bubbled up her throat and she looked at him with bright eyes. "When did you become so wise?" She inquired, gentle in her teasing.

"Ah," Desmond said, feeling heat rise up in his cheeks and span down his neck. "I have to relive the lives of bunch old, dead guys. I'm bound to pick up a thing or two, here and there."

Lucy laughed, lightly. Blotches of red were still dotted her cheeks and her eyes were swollen from where she had tried to keep her tears at bay, her smile slipped away and she looked down at her feet. "Desmond, thank you," said the blond, sincerely. "I know that…that there will be a lot to work through, but thank you for not dismissing me immediately or turn your back on me. I know that I don't deserve it and that you have no reason to give me this chance—"

"I have plenty of reason to take the risk on you, Lucy," Desmond interjected, gently.

Lucy flushed. "Still…thank you."

"You're welcome," Desmond smiled, warmly.

A knock came at the door before Shawn peeked his head inside. "Sorry to interrupt you love birds, but I thought you'd like to know that our Council appointed assassin just showed up. You might want to come and introduce yourself," the historian told the two, before he disappeared back the way he came with the door closed behind him.

Desmond ran a hand down the nape of his neck. "I'll go meet and greet, while you take a couple minutes for yourself," he offered, with a half-smile.

"Thanks." Lucy flashed him a grateful smile.

Desmond nodded, rising to his feet and patted her shoulder while he passed by. He left his bedroom suite and made his way towards the main hall that was rebuild to match the former Auditore Villa that had been destroyed in the siege by Cesare Borgia. He was halfway down the stairs when he stopped short at the sight of the man, standing leisurely and speaking to Shawn. He was a tall man, with a lean physique honed to be the perfect assassin from a young age. His reddish brown hair was cut short and a light beard had grown along his strong jaw. He turned towards Desmond, with sharp and intense blue eyes.

Desmond sighed. "Callum."

Callum Lynch smiled, humorlessly.

* * *

 _The Kingdom of Naples, Italy_

 _10_ _th_ _August 1482_

The foundation of Naples was built by Mt. Vesuvius in the Avellino Eruption, 2000 years before the tragedy of Pompeii, and twice as powerful as that natural disaster. This had covered the land in thick volcanic rock that held up the streets above, even as for thousand years people had carved out intricate pathways underneath that were hidden out of sight by the streets above. Greeks and Romans had used the chasm that spanned over three million square meters for a variety of reasons. Military, political, even the Emperor Nero used the pathways to magically appear on the stage of the great theatre to thrill his peasants. Those were some of the more benign uses of the pathways. A mudslide had made most of the underworld untouchable, still buried beneath it all. An entire city built upon a city with pathways underneath that. Naples always came back, disaster after disaster and refused to go quietly into the night.

Maybe that's why the Shroud brought Olivia Steel appeared here of all places. The resilient nature of the town and its people reflected something deep within her, she mused as she made her way down into the underbelly. The only passages that had been excavated were the ones used by Roman Emperors, that were documented, and a combined effort over time by the Assassins and Templars—not intentionally working together mind you—that breathed life into the old street ways. Though from what the locals had spoken, she may find more trouble than Templars in the depths. Whispers of spirits and demons that were said to haunt the old, lost city. She had enough ghosts haunting her already to be diving into underground tunnel rumored to be filled with them.

But desperation was an unkind motivator, Olivia concluded. She would rather be on a ship making way to Venice and ever close to reuniting with Ezio than to be skulking around these depths looking for this good willed informant that was supposed to take her to Spain. It was tempting to take a shot against fate and ignore the threat Cesare Borgia presented against herself, to hope the odds were on her side and roll the dice. Still common sense prevailed and while Olivia despaired knowing that it could be months before she could make a trip by land or sea to Italy. More time that she would lose and less moments she could share with those closest to her heart.

She passed through the tight tunnel, and carefully skirted around the edge of the cistern. The quarries done by the Greeks to build the old city, and the quarries had been renovated into cisterns by the Romans, creating of the ancient world's most advance achievements. The water poured and flowed, and the little beam of light that shined down from the well nearly seventy feet or more above, created pattern on the cavern walls that gently shimmered and swayed. Chewing on her lower lip, Olivia lifted the torch to light the path and carefully treaded along it.

"You only have yourself to blame, Olivia," she whispered to herself, walking down deeper into the depths of the maze. "If you had been strong enough to resist the stupid Shroud, you wouldn't be here at all. You would have never left and still be with Ezio."

The air was chill down in the deeps beneath Naples. It was a chill that had nothing to do with the air, nor with the icy cavern that reverberated in her soul, but the cold anticipation that shifted beneath her skin. She had an unnerved feeling, like a mouse twitching its nose at a block of cheese on the edge of a trap. The deeper she made her way into the earth, the more a suspicion unfurl in her heart. She didn't want to believe that the Isabella would betray her, that there was no good reason to doubt the woman.

Olivia could turn tail and flee, but if someone knew she was in Naples and was certain enough to set a trap, then they would certainly be certain enough to beat down some doors in order to search for her if their bait was not bitten. And that could get more than a few innocent people hurt along the way, such as Juliet. So Olivia forged forward through the hidden rat ways, with her heart thumping madly in her chest. Her eyes narrowed and in the distance she could see light in the distance. She was supposed to meet the informant here in these depths, but had a bad feeling in the pit of her gut. Her feet led her down a small passage almost too narrow for her to slip through, and when she stepped into the light, she found herself staring down a person that she had hoped never to come across.

Cesare Borgia gave a smile that was all teeth. "So you took the bait after all."

Olivia hand curled into a knuckle white grip on the torch and it was by sheer willpower that she did not draw her blade. Her grey eyes flickered towards the frightened Isabella. The monster had one hand twisted in her hair forcing her to bare her throat, and in the other held a wickedly sharp butcher blade ready to slice through the fragile flesh. "Isabella, are you alright?"

Isabella went to answer, but Cesare pressed the blade tighter to her flesh. She cried out, and drops of blood slid down across her dark skin. "Now, now, this conversation is between you and I, Red Hood," Cesare clucked his tongue, his tone and smile mocking. "Allow me to introduce myself—"

"Cesare Borgia," Olivia interrupted him, her tone quiet. Her face was an expressionless mask, but her heart hammered underneath her chest. An ice fear slid into her blood, and through her veins. Her grey eyes flickered to Isabella, whose face was wet with tears and her eyes filled with regret and fear, and her jaw clenched tightly. Her gaze turned back to Cesare who looked smug and arrogant, and a great deal younger than when he first appeared in Brotherhood. He almost looked boyish, charming, the guy that mother dreamed their daughters would bring home—a look that he would abandon with time, feeling no need to hide his vicious and dark side behind a saintly veil. However, she was not fooled by the façade. She knew what monster lay underneath. "I know who you are."

"Ah, good. Good. I am pleased my reputation has preceded me," Cesare smirked, gesturing for his guards to lower their weapons. He seemed to believe he had the upper hand, and damn him for being right though Olivia would not allow him to know that. "I have to admit that I was skeptically," he drew the blade of the dagger lazily over the courtesan's trembling throat, smearing the blood across the woman's skin, "when I heard that the Red Hood was a mere woman guising as a man."

"There is nothing mere about me," Olivia retorted, ice practically forming on her lips from how cold her tone was. "Why don't you let her go, and I will show you just what I am capable of."

"Interesting offer, but I shall pass for now," Cesare chuckled, darkly. His eyes glittered with malice and madness, seeming to thrive from the fear and uncertain that coated the air. He was like a smiling crocodile waiting patiently for his prey to make the wrong move before he lunged, devouring her with his sharp teeth.

"Afraid to fight fair?" Olivia taunted.

"The world is not fair, Red Hood," Cesare commented, with a dismissive air. "Why would I fight fair with a rogue notorious for stacking the odds?" With a sharp nod of his head, the Red Hood heard the telltale click of crossbows from behind her.

"You are quite a bastard, has anyone told you that?" The Red Hood commented, sourly. She tried not to let her terror bled into her voice, and thought she was doing a valiant effort. Her mind raced with different scenarios where she could get her and Isabella out of this alive. The success rate of the plans that could work weren't good, and there was a greater chance of death or worse at the end of this tunnel. But this had been coming for four years now, the past that would back to take a bite out of her and maybe she would have to finally face it.

Her only consolation was that Ezio or anyone else she loved was anywhere near the line of fire.

"By my father often enough," Cesare's dark eyes flashed with fury.

 _Oh, that's right. Cesare is illegitimate child,_ Olivia recalled, biting back an unhinged laugh in her panic. _Fuck._

"You should be more careful with your words," Cesare hissed, a hard edge in his voice. "Someday someone may hold you accountable for them. Perhaps, that day should be today."

He pressed the blade deep, and sliced clean through Isabella's neck. Isabella's eyes went widened in shock, and the blood pouring down her neck like a fountain. She choked on her sobs and blood, shoved to the ground by Cesare who no longer had any use for her.

"No!" Olivia screamed, the torch clattering to the floor. A rush of sparks scattered across the ground, like fire ants scrambling away in desperation.

The sharp, mechanical clank of the bolt being released, and barely had the mind to sidestep out of the way. The bolt sliced across her skin, tearing through her right side. If she hadn't moved it would have pierced clean through her lung, and she'd likely have died from choking on her own blood. She threw herself backwards until her back hit the stone wall, not giving the guards another shot at her unless they came down from their vantage point. Her eyes looked to Isabella, the courtesan already dead with a pool of blood spreading out from underneath her.

Regret and guilt swirled through her heart with insidious intent. Tears of shock and anger burned hot in her eyes, and she raised her gaze to give Cesare Borgia the most deadly glare that she was capable of that promised he would die by her hand, but as the catacombs echoed with the racket of armor and footsteps, she knew that his death would have to wait for another day. _Rest in peace, Isabella,_ she thought to herself before she slid through the tight passage.

She raced as fast as her legs would carry, mind racing if she had even a chance to escape. She would have to flee Naples on the first vessel she could find, but that would mean getting past the group of mercenaries that loitered near the entrance. Her eyes widened in shock, but she was spotted before she could back pedal. She was literally stuck between a rock and a hard place with no way out.

That didn't mean she would go quietly. She fought tooth and claw, cutting down two of the mercenaries before one good blow sent her to her knees. The ones that followed left her beaten down and weak, driving all the fight out of her with a brutal and effective force. She anticipated a cruel end when arms lifted her body off the ground, and Cesare Borgia grasped her chin in a bruising grip. "Now don't get too carried away. I want her in good enough condition for the show I intend to put on," he commented, his dark eyes bore into hers which glittered in anger. "I intend to give your assassin, Ezio Auditore da Firenze, a front row seat so don't lose that spirit just yet. I want him to see that fire being extinguished right in front of him as I break your body and spirit in every way imaginable, and he will be helpless to do anything about it."

When she thought she had no more fight, that threat alone renewed her struggles. She lunged forward, ramming her skull against Cesare's nose with an unforgiving force. She got a grim satisfaction out making him bleed, even if he exacted his revenge by jerking her around by the arm and a backhand to her face that rattled her teeth in her skull. She was dropped on the ground, and Cesare kicked her so hard that she was flung across the ground like a ragdoll. White hot tendrils shot up her side, she knew that the bastard had broken a rib and tasted blood on the back of her tongue.

The last thing she sat before her world went black was his glint of his boot just seconds before it met her face.

* * *

END OF CHAPTER!

You're welcome for the obligatory shower scene, btw. XD

Leo's Rabbles—This is actually based off me, a little bit. I rabble when I'm nervous and come up with the weirdest shit while doing so.

 **Fan Casting:** Rebecca Herbst as Olivia Steel. Antonio Cupo as Ezio Auditore. Francisco Randez as Desmond Miles. Kristen Bell as Lucy Stillman. Danny Wallace as Shawn Hastings. If you have any suggestion for any of the other characters like Rebecca, or Leo, then let me know. :D

RRs are appreciated. :D


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